


Reconciliation

by all_soul



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Character Death, Crack, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, I haven't read this since I wrote it and I sure as hell am not about to now, I wrote this when I was twelve, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, at least 12 year old me knew to put paragraph breaks, double spaced its 108 pages, fr read this on a bad day you'll get a good laugh, have fun, no beta we die like clintnat fans in 2015, so maybe my middle school history teacher watched me write it, still more maria/pepper/natasha content than the MCU ever gave us, that's her cross to bear, where did this motivation go, yes it was originally posted on fanfiction.net
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:02:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 36,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29036664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_soul/pseuds/all_soul
Summary: Bruce Banner returns post-AOU and Natasha has feelings about it.I wrote this when I was in seventh grade and my friend dared me to post it here (thanks LynxPies)Read this when you're having a bad day and you'll get a good laugh.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov
Kudos: 5





	1. Why do I do this to you guys

**Author's Note:**

> I just feel a need to clarify once again that I wrote this when I was twelve

“Hey, Nat, what’s up?” Natasha turned to her best friend. 

“Nothing” She looked back at the road, rubbing her rough, callused hands over her pale arms, stopping every few seconds to pick at the slight imperfections left there by recent battles. The winced, picking open a small scab. Natasha glared at the slight bubble of blood that started to form, and wiped it on her shoulder bag.

“Come on, I know you better than that.”

“Nothing, Clint.” She said firmly, her vibrant green eyes fixed on the large tower rising in front of them. The Stark symbol seemed brighter than usual, and as the pair of assassins drew closer they realized it was because Tony had strung Christmas lights through the white ones, gleaming, and lighting up the New York street ten stories below. Clint dialed Tony’s number.

“The tower really is Christmas with more you.” He said. Natasha heard forced laughter through the phone.

“How did you know about that conversation? Does S.H.I.E.L.D automatically receive all conversations through intercom? Dang, they need to butt out some times.” She heard Tony’s voice.

“Duh you idiot, of course they do.” Nat grabbed the phone from Clint.

“Hey!” Clint made a swipe for the phone. Natasha batted his hand away.

“We’re outside, let us in.” She demanded. They were greeted by a smiling Pepper, who opened the door to Stark Tower, and lead them in.

“Hey Pepper.” Clint said. Pepper nodded, smiling. She knew that look from the many times she’d received it.

“Pepper, you’re hiding something.” Natasha insisted, flashing one of her signature small smirks. Pepper took the two agents into the overly large living room. Inside sat the rest of the Avengers smiling at them from the red couch. Steve waved, and held up a bowl of doritos. 

“Want one?” 

“Give, you cannibal.” Clint’s face broke into a smile, and he walked over, and reached into the bowl. He came away with a handful. Natasha rolled her eyes. Steve just looked confused.

“Losers.” Tony nodded his head at them, his ever present sarcastic smile in place. Nat noticed the usual air of arrogance that radiated from Tony had grown even stronger than the last time she’d seen him, a feat she deemed impossible. Thor sat next to Tony, his dirty blonde hair spilling over his caped shoulders, still as muscled as ever. 

“Ah, hello, Widow of Blackness. And Eye of Hawk, it is a pleasure to see you again.” Natasha’s eyes then fell on the person sitting next to Thor, his thin, black glasses perched on his nose, black curly hair a mess, his lab coat over his shoulders. Her face fell into a straight emotionless scowl, one of her best signature looks. It was the man that had just disappeared after the battle with Ultron, leaving her, and the rest of the Avengers clueless as to his location. His little escapade broke her, and after it had been confirmed he was nowhere to be found by S.H.I.E.L.D she wished with all her soul that she had never let her walls down with him. It was Bruce. 

“Natasha, it’s n-nice to see you again.” He stammered, his eyes falling into his lap. She honestly didn’t know whether to take his outstretched hand, or to punch him in the nose. Without a word, or so much as a change in her facial expression, she walked over to him, suddenly noticing details about him that had changed from the last time she’d seen him. His skin was tanner, and rougher, more sun beat, and his lab coat had been ironed, something that pretty much never happened. Three pens peaked out of the pocket on his chest. She really didn’t care about any of these facts, as she raised her hand. She removed his wire glasses, and snapped them with a crack that sounded through the now very quiet room. Then she did something that she had been wanting to do since she laid eyes on him. Natasha pulled her fist back, and punched him in the nose as hard as she could. She heard another crack, louder than that created by the glasses, and blood spurted from both nostrils, staining the carpet crimson. Bruce gasped in pain, his hand flew to his face.

“Natasha!” She heard the Avengers scream from the couch. Steve’s bowl of doritos slipped from his hand, the contents spilling all over the floor. She didn’t care. Natasha placed the now smashed glasses into Bruce’s open hand, and retreated to her room, slamming the door behind her with a loud crack, the door frame split slightly. 

Now fully alone, she sank to the foot of the king sized bed, and let her head, heavy from all she had to process fall into her knees. Then she did something that she had only done about three times in her life. She started to cry. 


	2. Why do I do this to ME

Natasha knew that she was overreacting, but it felt good to make Bruce feel for what he did to her, and the rest of the team. For the entire week, she had refused to exit her room, these hours spent mainly staring at the plain walls, thinking about what she would say to him the next time she saw him. Still nothing. She had Clint and Steve bring her food twice a day, and she never spoke to them, except for murmuring words of thanks through the crack in the door. She heard a small knock,

“Natasha?” Pepper’s voice whispered through the door. Natasha hiccuped, and wiped a stray tear from her eye.

“Come in.” Pepper was the only one she would let in, she’d decided, but she hadn’t attempted to until then. Pepper opened the door, and sat on Natasha’s bed. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back into a bun that must have yanked out every strand that wasn’t long enough, and she wore a blue, tailored suit that hugged her hips. Nat, on the other hand, was wearing the same pajamas she’d been wearing for the past three days; a tank top with the S.H.I.E.L.D emblem stitched onto the back, and soft light gray sweatpants with drawstrings she enjoyed playing with. Pepper must’ve noticed either the red puffiness of her eyes, or the position at which she held her head.

“Natasha, I hate seeing you like this, is this all about.....” she trailed off. Natasha nodded slowly, knowing that she shouldn’t have let herself get this close to.... no, she couldn’t think about the possibilities of a steady relationship, she was a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, and Avenger; she couldn’t waste time worrying about such trivial things. But Bruce had opened up a more mushy, damageable part of her that Natasha prefered to keep caged out of her brain, and tethered to a spot where it couldn’t escape into her thoughts. She felt this emotion breaking through the cage whenever she thought of him, and she couldn’t stop it. She both hated him, and admired him for being able to bring out that area of her, but right now, mostly hate. Nat was used to this back and forth in her brain that she’d been having for the three days of being secluded in her room, staring at walls, but it didn’t make her enjoy them any more.

“Is there anything I can do?” Pepper asked, snapping her out of her trance. Natasha shook her head.

“I should never have let this side of me escape. I’m going soft.” She yanked at her fiery red curls with her long, thin fingers. Pepper laughed discreetly, but being her, Natasha saw it. “What’s so funny?” She asked, her glare back in place.

“You.” Pepper said simply. “You need to learn to accept some things about yourself, Natasha.” Natasha didn’t like being told what she should and shouldn’t do.

“Pepper, you’re not helping.” She said instead, fighting back a lot of rage that had built up. Punching her pillow didn’t help with her fury nearly as much as she’d hoped it would.

“I didn’t get that you wanted me to, judging by your.... demeanor, right now.” Pepper hesitated, twirling a piece of hair that had fallen from her bun.

“I don’t, you walked in.” She whispered. “If Clint sent you, I swear-”

“No, Natasha he didn’t.” Pepper cut her off. She sighed, placing her hands in her lap. “Bruce did.” At this news, Nat sat straight up, and rose to her feet, gritting her teeth.

“Pepper, if you tell him a thing that I just said, did, or mentioned, you will not live to see tomorrow.” Natasha promised. Pepper laughed.

“You’ll only know if I did or didn’t if Bruce comes to your door, or if you finally leave this room.” Pepper answered curtly. Pepper got her there, Natasha didn’t know how to respond. Instead, she simply pointed to the door. Pepper stood, and exited the room, leaving Nat with just herself, and her complicated feelings to continue to stare at the wall and grumble. 


	3. Why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh here's the one where Natasha confines herself to her room for a week like a normal human being I love being twelve

It had been about two days since Pepper had come into Natasha’s room, and she remained resentful. She was debating leaving, but she hated being proved wrong. It was very hard to taunt Nat into doing something she didn’t want to do, so she stood her ground, if only for the sake of her reputation. Though she was getting bored at a rapid pace, she squeezed the fabric of her pillowcase, and took a deep breath. She knew she couldn’t keep this up for another two days. Another knock on her door rattled her out of her slump.

“Nat?” Clint’s voice spoke softly through the door. Natasha also knew she had to shut out Clint if she was going to shut out Bruce, even if they were never close (or they could have been, and that was another thing being kept from her). She said nothing. “Nat, I’m coming in.” He pushed open the door, and raised a hand to his mouth.

“Do I look that terrible?” She raised her head, her neck cracking, she guessed from the hours it remained stiff angling her head to stare at her (almost never) uneven toe nails.

“Yeah.” He sat next to her, and brushed some of her wavy hair from her face. He was the only one she’d ever let touch her that personally and closely since the time at his own farm an entire year ago “You need to get out of here.”

“No.” She said flatly, ignoring the gesture.

“Then I’ll drag you out.” He grabbed her arm in his strong grip. She caught his hand in response, and flipped him over her head, and onto her bed. “Woah!” He shrieked. “Still got it.” He brushed his light brown hair back into place over his forehead.

“Five days in a room isn’t going to detract from my assassin skills.” She said. “I’ll do it again if you wanna try to drag me.” He laughed, and shook his head. “Now will you go away?!” She complained.

“Fine.” He got up, and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Natasha was grateful he knew her boundaries as he always did, traipsing back to her earlier position on the bed, flopped over, and stared at the smooth ceiling; it was clear of any imperfections for her to stare at. She heard a huge CRASH from the door.

“Pepperrrrrr, I’m bored.” Tony fell face first onto the carpeted floor. He must have been drinking the night before, he knew this was not Pepper’s room, and she wouldn’t be in it this time of day, but he didn’t smell of alchohol.

“Tony, get out.” Natasha stood over him, firmly placing her hands on her slim hips.

“Red?” He raised his head to face her. “Why are you in Pepper’s room?” He asked drunkenly. Natasha wasn’t convinced. It was a terrible attempt at a dizzy tone, and subtlety had never been the billionaire's strong suit.

“This is my room, now get out.” She yanked him to his feet, and pushed him out. “Also, stop calling me that.” Suddenly, he snapped out of his “drunken” state, smirk back in place, and shut the door behind them. Natasha’s theory had been confirmed, it was a trick, and she’d fallen for it nonetheless. She folded her arms, and scowled. “Very funny Tony, now let me in.” she could easily find her own way in, but this seemed the more polite option to try the first time.

“Nope.” He smirked even harder at her, folding his own arms across his chest. Nat sighed, and rolled her eyes.

“Fine, you got me, now at least let me change.” She decided to accept that Tony got her out of her room, and he unlocked the door. She highly doubted it was because he was sorry for her, she thought as she pulled on a black tank top, new jeans, and re-curled her hair. She still had to resist the urge to slam the door in Tony’s face, and instead closed the door behind her. She shut her eyes, opened them again and let Tony lead her to the lab where Bruce (as she thought) was standing, his hands clasped behind his back. Natasha didn’t know how to react to seeing the man she’d seen for the first time in a year, snapped his glasses, and punched him. She regretted that now, and knew it was very out of character for her. She winced, seeing the large white bandage covering his obviously swollen nose. 

“Doctor.” She said.

“Doctor?” Tony exclaimed. “That’s it.” He slapped his hand to his eyes. Bruce shook his head rapidly at Tony. What was going on? “I’ll leave you guys alone.” Did Bruce, or Tony actually think she would be able to forgive Bruce this easily? If so, they didn’t know her at all, only Clint, and Bruce, who she had opened up to knew her. Clint knew more of her than Bruce did, but Bruce knew areas that she’d never revealed to Clint. His knowledge was more, but Bruce’s was more personal. She really wished she hadn’t opened up, this only proved her usual theory, never let anyone see deeper than her large stash of weapons. She folded her arms.

“I hope you dragged me here to apologize.” She spoke coolly. Bruce rubbed the back of his neck, his worry apparent on his tanned face. The tan only reminded her of her reason of being angry, and she tightened her clutch on her arms.

“Natasha, I am.” He stated, his hands fidgeting with a ballpoint pen from his pocket. “I never should have left like that, left you, after you told me everything.” His head drooped miserably, his sorrow streaming from him in shadows she could see streaking towards her in dark waves. Natasha felt her walls slightly crumbling seeing this. She forced them back up and remained silent. “I wanted to come back to you the second I left, it tore me apart to end that call, seeing the look of utter desperation on your face, but I could never bring myself to come back until Clint sent a quinjet to get me, and told the pilot not to leave until I boarded.” He continued. She couldn’t believe Clint would do that, was it for her? She doubted it, it was probably for the good of the team. “So obliged, and came back.” She shut her eyes.

“How long have you been here.” she grumbled. 

“Huh.”

“How long have you been here, in New York, not bothering to tell me.” Natasha opened her eyes, they flashed dangerously, she guessed from Bruce’s wince.

“A week.” He said softly. 

“A week? A week.” Natasha ran her fingers through her red hair in exasperation. She really could not believe he had kept this from her for a week, him not being able to keep much hidden for more than three days normally, and she was insulted with herself she hadn’t figured it out by now. Everyone had dropped hints something was waiting for her, but she’d stupidly ignored them. He nodded, biting his lip, sticking the pen back in his pocket. She actually had no idea what to do now, where when she first saw him, she knew she wanted to hurt him, now just nothing. She deeply regretted punching him already. The absence must have already hurt him, and she knew little about his childhood, but what she did know was that it had been abusive. Now, when he’d returned for  _ her,  _ she’d brought it back around to haunt him in the present. She painfully regretted that. They stood in silence for a full minute before Bruce spoke up.

“Uh, Natasha?” 

“Yes?” She looked up.

“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” He asked. “Anything? At all?” His eyes pleaded like a puppy drenched in rain. Natasha felt she was now the one who owed him something, and Bruce was the only one who could break her down this easily, and she hated it. She hated not having control of her emotions, she’d always thought soft feelings were fables, that love was for children, not knowing how it felt. Natasha had never been truly in love. He understood her, he had similar problems, but very different ways of conveying them. He let his emotions out, while she kept hers bottles away inside her to let them rot.

“We’ll see.” And with that, she walked out of the lab to the kitchen. She needed something more than the soup Clint and Steve had been bringing her.


	4. I'm so sorry guys

Natasha walked into the large kitchen of Stark tower, and sat on the counter, disregarding the stools behind her. She reached up into the cupboard, and pulled out a box of cereal, poured herself some, and took a spoon from a drawer. 

“Natasha!” She saw Steve standing in the doorway. “You’re out of your room!”

“Amazing, isn’t it.” She turned back to her cereal. “You should call the press.”

“W-who?” He asked. clearly astonished someone had gotten her to exit her stubborn isolation. Natasha ignored this, and continued to spoon cereal into her mouth. He pulled the oatmeal from its jar on the counter, and started to make it for himself. Natasha never liked oatmeal, it had always been too mushy for her, quite a lot like the feelings she was trying frantically to block out. Needless to say she was failing.

“Guys!” She heard Tony’s arrogant voice from downstairs. It sounded less arrogant than usual though. “We got a problem!” Steve dropped his bowl, for the second time in a week. It shattered at his feet. He cursed.

“Language, Rogers.” She taunted, and ran downstairs to meet Tony. It had been a year since his language comment, and the Avengers would still not let it go. Thor, Clint, Tony, and Bruce stood at the full-length window, staring into the sea of people below. Clint pointed one thumb down at a large shape making it’s way through the crowd, grimacing bitterly, as if remembering an old enemy. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to care about the citizens it was knocking aside into the construction projects creating a racket on the sides of the streets. It glinted in the afternoon sun, turning its metallic form upwards. Natasha was now easily able to define the hulking figure as now clearly in the shape of a human body, though it was also clearly not human. She could tell because of the shape of the helmet. The Avengers had fought this specific race before, it looked quite like the chitauri soldiers that had attacked New York, accept larger. It also had more defined muscles, more advanced armor. It was hard to make out the details of its form from ten stories up, though it was obviously at least twelve feet tall. 

“This enemy, we have had a quarrel with in the past.” Said Thor’s booming voice.

“Yes. Yes we have.” Steve clamped a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s the chitauri.” Bruce announced.

“Yeah, but it looks like only one.” Tony raised his hand above his eyes, and continued to squint at it. “But a more advanced one. This one’s got muscles, and new armor.” He pointed out.

“We got that, want me to shoot it?” Clint asked, opening his bow, and knocking a single arrow. Natasha pushed the bow down.

“No, let’s see what we’re fighting first.” She did enjoy the fight, but knew to pick her battles. He nodded once.

“Good point.”

“Suit up everyone.” Steve addressed the group. Each Avenger retreated to their rooms without another word. Nat pulled on her tight black jumpsuit, feeling every crease in the black material, as she slid it over her shoulders. She opened her closet. There were no clothes in it, she kept those in the huge dresser in the back of the room. She reserved his closet for a large amount of weapons. She selected two pistols, a couple electric disks, and a paralyzing serum. She tucked the disks into two of the pockets located at the tops of her arms, and zipped them closed. She heard a soft knock over the clicking of loading her guns.

“What.” She got up, and opened the door. There stood Bruce. “Oh, what is it?” She was secretly happy it was him, but also very angry. Bruce just stood there for a second, staring at her. “What.” She said again. He adjusted his glasses, she noticed had been fixed, and cleared his throat.

“Natasha.” He spoke. “I’m really sorry, and can I fight, uh, next to you?” She really wasn’t much of a team player, but if she had any hope of things getting better with Bruce, she would take it.

“Fine, now can I please keep loading my guns?” She raised one.

“Uh, yeah.” She awkwardly shut the door behind him. She sat back down on her bed, and covered her face in her hands. She really needed to stop letting him take so much control over her. Natasha took two of the gun holders from a drawer, and strapped them to her thighs. She slid the pistols into them, fully loaded. She took a deep breath, and stepped out of her door. She walked down the hallway, and into the living room, where the now fully suited Avengers stood. Bruce looked at her nervously. 

“Alright losers, lets go and kick some chitauri butt.” Tony spoke from inside his suit. He walked over to the balcony, and took off from the launchpad.

“Good luck.” Pepper waved from the doorway. Steve saluted her. Natasha and Thor nodded. Clint finished loading his quivers with sharp, silver tipped arrows, and strapped them to his back. From many years fighting with him, she knew he always packed too many, or too little arrows. Bruce just looked anxious. He changed into the special pants he and Tony had been developing before he....left..... for his transformation. Clint, Steve, and Thor walked to the balcony and leaped off, Steve and Clint jumping down from building to building, Thor flying using Mjolnr. Natasha and Bruce took the stairs down to the street, and opened the glass doors. Steve and Tony had made themselves busy shepherding the passerby to safer streets while Clint tried to get the chitauri’s attention. He shot arrows off of it’s armor, attempting to make it look at him. Right now, it was focused on her and Bruce. Bruce grew into his muscle, and turned into the familiar green fighter only she could calm. He roared in it’s direction. It turned to face him.

“Woah big guy!” She called. “Not yet!” She didn’t want this chitauri dead before she could see what was going on. It turned it’s head to the sky, as if the gigantic Hulk, and Natasha weren’t worth it’s time. It then made one of the worst noises Nat had ever heard in her life. It sounded across between a rattlesnake, a dying rooster’s call, and a dolphin that had somehow learned to talk. Natasha narrowed her eyes, and drew her pistols, aiming them at the thing. The street was mostly clear now, and Steve and Tony joined the duo. The chitauri turned to face them, it’s face now more visible. It was a nasty combination of purple and and olive green mixed into one hideous color, and was wrinkled, the nose merely slits. The eyes were not even clearly defined, but Natasha could see them narrowing. She held a hand in front of Hulk, walking slowly towards this general she assumed.

“Nat, what are you doing?!” Steve yelled.

“Shh!” She pressed a finger to her lips. She was trying to get close enough to see the chitauri clearly, to see what she was fighting. She had gone through this plan with Bruce before, after much protest, she had convinced him to do it. Natasha would approach it, and see what was under the helmet, then if it attempted to hurt her, which they already thought it would, she would whip out two disks, and hurl them at it’s helmet; therefor electrocuting the creature. It turned it’s head to her, and she could see it’s face was even more nasty than she’d speculated. The lines on it ran deep, several long scars were cut into it’s flesh. The armor it wore was intricately carved with patterns of war, hardly any chinks could be found by just her eyes. She spotted a small one near the collarbone, it’s use unclear. Just as she and Bruce thought, it took a swipe at her feet. She jumped, landing firmly on both feet, two disks between her fingers. Her red hair swished around her face. She threw one at the helmet. Blue sparks of electricity leaped, and scattered along the silver metal, but this didn’t seem to bother it.

“Natasha!” Came Steve and Clint’s voices. An arrow, and Cap’s shield flew towards the chitauri’s face. It nocked the arrow aside, and it exploded in the construction area. Dirt, and rocks flew everywhere. The shield ricocheted of the helmet, not leaving so much as a dent. It lodged in a building fifty feet away. Steve ran to retrieve it, and Tony tried using his hand laser beams, blasting at the face this time. It raised an arm, deflecting the blow.

“Rude.” Tony said from the suit. He took off, and propelled himself to where Clint was standing on a four story roof top. Natasha took her other disk, and threw it at the chink in it’s armor. It lodged firmly in place between the two plates of thick metal. Light skated across the surface, and glowed in the armor. The chitauri finally flinched, and seemed to notice they were a threat now. Another one of Clint’s arrows binged off the surface of the helmet at full speed, leaving a sizeable dent in it. The general looked up, and swiveled its head, probably looking for where the arrow originated. It’s pale, milky eyes fixed on Clint and Tony on the tower. They spotted the bow in Clint’s hands, and it froze. 

Two nasty, purple, hands came into view, searching the chitauri’s shiny, armor for who knew what. Natasha was starting to get seriously creeped out. She gripped the handles of her guns, and tighten her muscles. The hands stopped, beginning to yank on a slight imperfection in the metal. It came free at their touch, and started to expand into a large spear, quite like the ones the chitauri had used as weapons when they attacked New York four years before. This one was somehow more advanced, Nat could sense, and a fiercer blue light was emanating from the tip. The stem was smoother, with less ridges and designs cut into it, and the spear end was sharper. The chitauri aimed it to where Clint and Tony were standing.


	5. Why did I write so much for this

Natasha realized what was happening a second before it happened. The sharp end of the spear glowed even more fiercely blue. A beam of familiar sky blue light shot to where Tony and Clint were standing, hitting Clint square in the chest. He fell with a painful cry that pierced her ears. Tony had tried to leap in front of him, to let the metal alloy take the blast, but he was too late. It was impossible, this could not be happening! Natasha was not an emotional person, but she could not afford to believe that her best friend, the man who spared her life when he was sent to kill her so many years ago, could possibly be dead. Killed like an unimportant, unvalued fruitfly. It made her understandably furious. Rage screamed, and clawed at her insides like an insane monster, caged far too long. Maybe her fiery red hair came from all the built up anger inside that she never let out. That was Clint’s theory anyway. Clint. 

She remembered the day that he spared her, she had been in her less upgraded black car, driving at night down San Francisco streets. They were much cleaner than the New York ones, she’d noticed. A shadow moved in an alleyway. Natalia’s eyes floated on the point. 

“Autopilot.” She told the car. It obeyed. She leaned towards the tinted glass window to search the scene. A figure, male, she guessed was leaning against the brick wall. He was holding something that looked like a bow in his right hand, a huge quiver of arrows strapped to his back. His hair was the color of tumbleweed in the dull light coming from the street lamps, he was wearing a black over coat that didn’t cover the stash of arrows. The man knocked one, and aimed it straight at her face. She ducked, as the arrow flew over her head, smashing the bulletproof window. How? “Stop!” She yelled to the car. Natalia opened the door, and rolled onto the street in a flurry of red hair. She grabbed one of her pistols from it’s holder in the car. “Show yourself.” She yelled to the man, aiming the gun directly at his face. He slung his bow over his shoulder, and walked into view, his hands raised. “Who are you, and why are you following me.” She moved hesitantly closer to the man.

“Clint Barton.” He replied calmly. “You put that down, and we can talk.” Clint Barton sat down on an overturned bucket in the alleyway, and gestured to one nearby. She stood there, still pointing the gun at his nose. He seemed unfazed by this, and continued to look at her with a friendly look on his face. She slowly sat down, her straight faced suspicion hopefully still evident on her face. He held out his hand. “And you are?” She knew he knew who she was, as she was widely known with organizations throughout the country, and she’d spotted the S.H.I.E.L.D emblem stitched on his chest. 

“You know who I am.” Natalia dodged the question. She crossed her arms, fingering the handle of the pistol she’d replaced in its jacket. 

“Yes, I do, that’s why I’m here.” His face was squarish, his arms muscular, clenching as he spoke.

“You were sent to kill me.” She stood.

“Yes, I was, but, instead, I would like to offer you a job at S.H.I.E.L.D.” The assassin didn’t believe Clint, she had been in situations like this, and wasn’t going to let him trick her. She pulled the pistol from it’s sleeve, and pulled the trigger, the bullet hitting his upper shoulder. He grimaced, but stood. “All we know, is that you have been charged with a lot of assassinations in the past six years, and would like to stop it.” Her eyes flashed. “And that you call yourself the Black Widow. It suits you.” He eyed her red hair. “We don’t know your real name.”

“Good.” She said. “I still don’t believe you.” Natalia insisted. Clint placed a hand in the pocket of his jacket, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it, and handed it to her. She took it.

S.H.I.E.LD RECRUITMENT FORM

Agent Code Name: Black Widow

Agent Name: Unconfirmed

Agent Voucher Code Name: Hawkeye

Agent Voucher Name: Clint Barton

Agent Signature:

Agent Voucher Signature: C. Barton

She looked up at him, and handed back the form. It was really all she wanted was to be accepted, but she wouldn’t give in this easily.

“Why should I join.” Natalia asked. She was curious now, but wouldn’t let it show.

“Well, you wouldn’t have to be on the run anymore, all your files would be secret.” He started. “And you would be trained in fighting skills even tougher than those you know.”

“You don’t know what I’ve learned.” She clenched her fists. She would not tell this Clint about her past. The past was hers, and she would not give it away.

“You’re right, I don’t, but you would learn more.” He covered.

“I know every form of Japanese, Italian, Brazilian, Russian, American, and Chinese martial arts.” She told him, surprising herself.

“Cool, that’ll be useful.” He nodded. “You’re in?” Natalia nodded, but she didn’t feel like she was in control, like something was controlling  _ her _ , but at the same time, she knew she wanted to join S.H.I.E.L.D, to get rid of all the red in her ledger.

“I’ve got red in my ledger. I’d like to wipe it out.” She said emotionlessly.

“Good, Let’s go.” He walked to the end of the alleyway, and opened a door, gesturing for her to follow. It looked like a typical maintenance room. She was expecting some cloaking device to reveal a vehicle of some kind. She was disappointed.

“Is some vehicle going to appear?” He laughed.

“No, this is just an electrical room.” He pointed to a door at the end of the room. “That’s where we’re going.” 

“Does S.H.I.E.L.D know you haven’t killed me? They’ll kill me on sight if they don’t.” Natalia rubbed her arms agitatedly.

“No, I was sent to kill you, but I think you’d do more for us if you were alive, and working with us. They trust me.” He said ‘they’ like he meant one person in particular. If she had any chance of running, this was it, but she didn’t after taking a glance at the quiver of wickedly sharp arrows glinting on his back; so she didn’t attempt to escape. This seemed like a good choice for Natalia, she felt as if she was finally going straight, she wasn’t murdering for anyone anymore, for any cause. Natalia felt finally free, at long last.

“Can I see the form?” He handed her the piece of paper, she pulled out a red pen from her jacket, and signed her name.

  1. Romanoff



That was when she was Natalia. From then on, she was Natasha.


	6. Sweet Lord have mercy

“Nat?” She opened her eyes. Two blurry faces hovered over her. “Natasha?” Her vision cleared. Bruce and Steve’s heads were staring concernedly down at her. She gestured them away, and sat up. She put her hand on her forehead.

“How long was I out?” She asked.

“About three hours.” Bruce answered, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked so concerned. Something in her fluttered seeing his concern over her. She wished he didn’t affect her as much as he did. She brushed it off quickly. Her head was killing her.

“Three hours!” She expressed. Did they get the chitauri? It was all her fault, she should have let Clint fire an arrow at it in the first place. Everything hit her at once. Clint was dead, then she’d had the flashback to her first meeting with him, and then she’d woken up with Steve and Bruce over her. Clint was dead. Her best friend, who had spared her, Clint, who had always been there for her, Clint who had brought her to his family when she was in a vulnerable state and could have easily killed them, Clint. He could not be dead. They shook their heads solemnly as if reading her thoughts. Natasha shut her eyes.

“It wasn’t your fault, Nat.” Steve insisted. She didn’t believe him. If she had let Clint fire the arrow, the chitauri wouldn’t have been able to kill him. Now, they had to face the chitauri again. If the Avengers didn’t get them, then Clint died for nothing. She couldn’t let that happen. 

“We have to kill it. And every single other one.” She announced. “Clint cannot have died for nothing.”

“About that.” Steve said. “His funeral is next month.” Sadness settled in Natasha’s stomach. A deep, painful sadness, like a loon had sat there, and tucked its beak into its black feathers.

“Ok. Also, how did I get here?” She tried to hide her grief, but Steve must have seen it.

“I carried you, well the Other Guy carried you here.” Bruce explained. He had enough control over the Hulk to bring her to her room without tearing down the tower? Without breaking doorframes? She took back that one after spotting a crack in the wall above the entrance to this room. That was still very little damage without her to calm him. That was new.

“I’ll leave you alone.” Steve rested a hand on the door. “Bruce, come on.” Bruce waved him away.

“I have to talk to Nat.” Bruce swallowed. He sat down on the edge of her bed, and put a hand on her forehead. His fingers were pleasantly warm and soft. He muttered under his breath. “Temperature fine.”

“What’s up.” She pulled her blanket farther up over her shoulders.

“I’m, uh, just here to listen, if you need someone to talk to about......” She knew what he was going to say. Natasha really hated opening up to people, it let them see parts of her she didn’t want them to see, and it gave them an advantage over her. She never really trusted people, but she had already opened up to Bruce about the Red Room.

“When I first joined S.H.I.E.L.D, right after my first interrogation with Fury, Clint took me to a training room that was covered in dummies and punching bags. He got out his bow and arrows. I thought he was going to shoot me, I got my gun out.” Bruce looked shocked that she’d agreed to talk to him, but he quickly hid his expression. “He told me that he was only going to teach me to shoot. I didn’t know how, but I also didn’t know how Clint knew it was the one thing the Red Room never taught me. I guessed they thought I didn’t need it, but then I wished they had. I dropped my gun on a table nearby, and stood facing him. He opened another bow, and handed it to me. He showed me the proper stance, and he knocked his own arrow. He placed an arrow in my bow, and put my hand over it. I thought it would take a lot more to get him to trust me, but he seemed to immediately. I wasn’t used to that. Everyone wanted something from me, but he didn’t. You don’t either.” Natasha looked up at Bruce. “At least, you don’t seem to.” His eyes were astonished, his face calmer than his usual expression of serious concentration. “Should I stop?”

“No, keep going.” He shook his head, and rested his hands in his lap. She tilted her head back down, and continued the story.

“He pointed me towards the target on the wall, and loosened my hand. He let his arrow fly, and it hit the bullseye. I remember being surprised that he could shoot that accurately, but I learned to hide it the same way I hid everything else.”

“You don’t need to hide from me.” Bruce spoke softly. She saw him looking at her from the corner of her eye. 

“I hope not, because nothing had better leave this room, or you’ll have to find another bandage for your nose.” He chuckled, but she regretted that comment too. “Now, will you let me finish?” He nodded obediently. “I opened my hand, and shot mine at the target. It hit dead center, splitting Clint’s arrow. I remember the look of surprise on Clint’s face when it did.” The memory was painful, but she forced a laugh. “He told me he had never had a student learn as quickly, and we laughed. He took me to see Fury again. Fury looked up from his desk, and eyed me wearily. ‘what’ he said. Clint told him about my arrow, and Fury fully sat up now. He stood, and approached me. He stood a foot from my face, his expression unreadable. I could usually read faces very well, so this was odd for me. I was taught to read even the straightest faces, but his was utterly emotionless.” Bruce laughed. 

“That’s Fury.” Natasha glared at him. He fell silent, and waved his hand. “Continue.”

“He looked me up and down, and told me ‘drop all your weapons on the desk’. I did, it was a large stash, you do not know how many pockets are in my jumpsuit.” She took notice of Bruce’s face. “That’s a lot. Fury picked up a pistol of mine. I told him to put it down, and he just looked at me before obeying. Clint set up a target on the wall just above where Fury’s head would be when he sat down. ‘She learns really fast, she got a bullseye first shot.’ Clint told him. ‘can she show you?’. I was angry with Clint, I didn’t want to nail my new recruiter in the head the day of my joining. I gave Clint a glare, but he was unaffected, the first person not to be affected by my glare, except my trainers who had taught it to me. He handed me the bow I used, and an arrow. I took a deep breath, and knocked it. ‘Can you sit down?’ Clint asked Fury, and he did so. He had me walk to the end of Fury’s office, and told me to shoot the arrow at the target. It was really tense, since I didn’t want to murder Fury, but if this was what needed to happen, it would happen. I shot the arrow, and closed my eyes, preparing for the dull thunk of the arrow impaling Fury’s forehead, but I heard nothing. ‘I told you.’ Clint said. I opened my eyes, and saw the arrow had hit the bullseye. Fury stood, and yanked the arrow out of the wall. He handed it to Clint, then turned to me. He held out his hand, and ungloved it. I did the same, took it, and we shook hands. ‘Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D.’ he said. I remember being happier then, than I’d ever been in my life.” She finished. 

She raised her head to face Bruce. His expression hadn’t changed. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She realized that he wouldn’t be surprised. He knew how being finally, partially accepted felt. They had both found a family with the Avengers, they both knew the pain of not being accepted elsewhere. 

“I don’t know exactly what to say, accept that, I uh, I understand, and thanks for trusting me, but other than that, I don’t really know.” Bruce rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand, like he always did when he was nervous.

“What’s wrong.” She crossed her arms. “I know that look.”

“Nothing, it’s just, Tony said it’s time for dinner.” He answered.

“Ok, I’ll be down in a bit.” It had been a long day.


	7. My Immortal is QUAKING

Natasha walked back to her room, alone, feeling every step in the soft carpet, every strand of hair that brushed her face. She opened the door to her room, and yanked open the drawers of her dresser. She pulled off her jumpsuit, and dressed in another black tank top, and a pair of white sweatpants. At this point most of her wardrobe consisted of tank tops and sweatpants, and some jeans, but she didn’t care. Pepper had been bothering her for months to let her buy her new clothes. She opened her door, and found Pepper outside.

“Pepper?” She asked.

“Hi, Natasha.” Pepper responded, tucking an electronic clipboard under her arm. Natasha just looked at her. “Steve, Tony, and Thor are waiting downstairs to eat. Bruce is still in his room.” Pepper said. Nat still didn’t move. “I’ll go.” Pepper walked away, and Natasha pushed the button for the elevator. When she waited for it to come, she thought about many things. Bruce, Clint, Pepper. How Bruce had accepted her opening up, and had even asked her to, how Clint had been the first to die for the second chitauri attack, and Pepper, who just wouldn’t leave her alone. All of these facts bothered her, but she didn't know how to express any of them. Expressing things was not Natasha's strength at all, she tried  _ not  _ to let things control her. The elevator dinged, and she entered. A hand slid between the metal doors just before they slid shut, and Pepper walked back in. “I have to eat too.” Pepper said in response to Natasha’s look. Pepper and Natasha stood in awkward silence until the elevator halted at their floor. She looked back at the doors. They opened, revealing Steve, Tony, and Thor sitting at the counter on stools. Thor’s chair seemed to be slowly sinking to the ground under his Asgardian weight, Tony was pouring himself a glass of wine, and Steve was dipping a tortilla chip into a bowl of salsa. Natasha was reminded furiously of Clint, and how he loved dipping pretty much anything in anything. It had never made sense to her.

“Well, look who decided to leave her solitary confinement.” Tony announced from over the rim of his wine glass. She shot him a look.

“Hey Nat.” Steve said through a mouthful of salsa.

“Widow.” Thor declared. She sat on the stool next to Steve, and pulled a plate of chicken to her. Natasha hadn’t eaten anything today, as their breakfast had been rudely interrupted by the chitauri general.

“Fellas.” She dug into her chicken with renewed enthusiasm, apparently surprising Steve.

“Hungry?” He asked. She rolled her eyes at him.

“Tell me about the funeral.” She demanded. It was a tough subject, but one she was dedicated to learning about. All their faces fell into serious expressions.

“Well, we don’t have many details, but we know Fury is renting a place in Queens for it.” Steve answered. “Laura has already been told.” He continued. Clint’s family had occurred to Natasha, but she hadn’t let herself dwell on it too long. His children would now be fatherless, and their one year old baby boy, Nathaniel (traitor) would never know his father. Laura would definitely need some help with all three kids now, she would have to visit sometime after the funeral.

“No.” She said. They all looked at her. “The funeral should be at the farm, he should be buried under that huge tree behind the house.”

“Natasha, are you sure that would be a good idea?” Tony contradicted. “I mean, burying someone in a cemetery near their house is one thing, but a husband six feet under her backyard is another. It might be a little odd.”

“Since when have you ever been bothered by something being odd?” Steve asked. 

“I still think the cemetery in Queens would be the best idea, and Spangles, I didn't spend seventy years in the world's largest ice chest, so I'd stop talking.” Natasha could understand the guys thinking something’s wrong with her confining herself to her room every other day, but she knew Clint better than anyone. This would be what he would’ve wanted, as much as it hurt her to think it.

“ _ No,  _ it’s what....” she had a hard time finishing. “It’s what he would’ve wanted.” They all nodded. Natasha returned to her chicken.


	8. I'm running out of ideas for these titles

A month after their discussion at the dinner table, Natasha, Tony, Steve, and Thor were getting ready for the funeral. Bruce, who had been notified of the change of plan was getting ready as well. Natasha had a particularly difficult time getting out of bed today, but she managed slowly and drudgingly. She opened one of her least used drawers in her dresser, formal wear, and pulled out a long, black dress. It had been one of Clint’s favorites when they would use it for undercover missions. She slipped it over her head, and over her shoulders. The smooth black material flowed over her figure perfectly. Natasha usually hated clothes like this, that she couldn’t move in, but this dress she liked. It was sleek, and elegant, with a chiffon skirt that flowed around her ankles. The neckline was one shouldered, and showcased her muscular, yet feminine features. The waist was trimmed with a red silk ribbon Clint and she had found on a mission out of New York. She had been growing her hair longer just to put up for the event, and would cut it soon after. She heard a knock at her door.

“Come in.” She rasped. Pepper opened the door.

“You look beautiful!” Pepper exclaimed. “Come here.” Natasha walked over to Pepper, who was clad with at least four different types of hair ribbons and accessories on each arm. Pepper took three bits of hair from each side, and braided them. Then, she pulled the braids back, and scooped the rest of her hair into a high ponytail, so the braids looked like a delicate crown framing her face. She had to admit she looked great. Pepper had woven a black ribbon through one of the braids, and it shimmered whenever she moved. Next, Pepper sat Natasha down in a chair in front of a mirror, and got to work on her makeup. She drew on bright red lips, and brushed a perfect smokey cat eye that Natasha could never do herself on missions. Why Nat even owned a mirror was unknown to her. 

“Thanks, Pepper.” She spoke quietly. Pepper made another grab for her ponytail, but Natasha batted her hand out of the way. She heard someone clear their throat from the doorway. Steve was standing there.

“Hello Steve.” Pepper said. Natasha nodded. She had almost never felt this completely awful. The only other time was when Bruce left, but one terrible situation at a time.

Nat, you ok?” He sat down next to her, and folded his hands in his lap. She nodded and stood, brushing the wrinkles out of her dress.

“We should go.” Natasha made for the door, but Steve blocked her path.

“Are you sure you should go?” He asked, forehead creased with concern. It was such an absolutely ridiculous question, that she almost snorted.

“Yes, he was my best friend.” She pushed him aside easily, and made her way down the hallway in her three inch red heels. He and Pepper followed, Pepper in some dangerously high green stilettoes Natasha had no idea how she walked in, and Natasha had walked in some high heels.

The other Avengers were waiting in the Stark Tower lobby when they got there. Tony walked over to Pepper and took her arm. Bruce took in a breath, and tilted back and forth in his shoes.

“Y-y-you look nice.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose, and stood in silence.

“You too.” She said, and pushed open the door. There was a sleek black Ford waiting outside the building for them. Thor was already inside, ducking his head. Thor looked very odd in a suit to Natasha, as she was used to his chain armor, and red cape. Mjolnr was tucked under his arm, his gold hair pulled back into a ponytail. “Thor.”

“Hello Miss Romanoff.” He addressed her. She clambered into the way back with Steve, as Tony blatantly refused to sit there. They were silent the entire drive to the farm, except for Tony’s awful tries at conversation, which were silenced quickly by Pepper. Natasha was really in no mood for talking right now, she was in the car, crammed next to Steve the human dorito to her best friend’s funeral. 

When they finally got to the ranch, Laura and Fury greeted them. Laura’s face was streaked with tears, and so were the kids, though their faces lit up when the car came into view. They ran towards the car, not all too carefully of their clothing to Laura’s dismay. Natasha opened the door, and stepped out, preparing for a child to smash into her.

“Auntie Nat!” Came two childrens’ voices. Natasha laughed, and hugged the two kids to her. She wasn’t a hugger, but the two giggling children made her feel happy. She scooped up the little girl, and hugged her.

“Hey, how are you?!” She asked. 

“Good!” She screeched in Natasha’s ear. She assumed Lila was very far from good, but this seemed to be the default response to this question whenever an adult asked it. She set Lila down, and went over to Laura and Fury. The smile on her face felt very odd, like it was stretching uncomfortably, as smiles had been uncommon lately. Even a sarcastic smirk was rare these days.

“Agent Romanoff.” Fury nodded. He was wearing a black suit with a purple tie, and shiny black shoes. He also looked quite off from his usual in a suit, Nat noticed.

“Hey.” She said. She noticed Laura was also wearing purple. Clint wore purple, Natasha should’ve incorporated it into her outfit, why didn’t she?! Luckily, Pepper came to the rescue.

“Here.” Pepper whispered in her ear, and slipped a box into her hand. Nat opened the box. Inside, was Clint’s purple earring. Six months back, Clint had insisted on getting one ear pierced, and dragged Natasha with him. This was the earring he had gotten the piercing with. He had been clutching her hand the entire time, and then he screeched a little when the needle pierced his ear. She had rolled her eyes. She had her ears pierced ever since she left the Red Room. It was the first thing she could think of that would make her seem normal, so this was her go to. She took out one of her diamond earrings, and replaced it with the small metallic purple stud.

“Hello, Nat.” Laura wiped her leaking eyes with her hand. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too.” Natasha responded with a grimace. “Help me.” Laura laughed, and picked up one of the screaming children swarming Natasha.

“Give her a break guys.”

“It’s time.” Fury appeared with a solemn expression at Laura’s shoulder. He turned to Natasha. “You’re sitting next to Wanda, first row.” He told her. Wanda, Natasha had completely forgotten about her. She would be crushed. Her brother had died a year ago, protecting Clint, and now, Clint, the only family she had now was gone. Wanda would be almost as upset as she was. She waded through the sea of white plastic chairs on the lawn of the house, and found her seat. The day was clear, the sky a deep mid-morning blue. A few wisps of clouds drifted through the sky, but there was a large cloud bank on the horizon that might approach very quickly if the wind picked up. The trees around the yard bent slightly in the breeze, causing the forming crowd of S.H.I.E.L.D agents in the back to be showered with pine needles. 

Natasha sat next to Wanda, who was already there. She was wearing her red leather jacket, but with a long, silky black dress. Her ruby tear shaped pendant hung from her neck on a thin, black cord. Her curtain of brown hair hid her face, fluttering with every breath.

“Wanda?” Wanda was Natasha’s trainee for the Avengers, after the battle with Ultron. Wanda had been training with her one on one while Steve took the other newbies. Tony had stopped by every once in a while to check on progress, as did Fury and Agent Hill. Natasha and Wanda had grown close, but Natasha still hadn’t told Wanda anything about the Red Room, and Wanda hadn’t told her about her childhood either. Both of their pasts remained mysteries to the other, but they were still friends. Neither asked, and neither lied. Wanda looked up. Her eyes were red, and puffy from crying, her face looked thinner than usual.

“Hello Natasha.” She said in Russian. Wanda hadn’t been eating, she realized. The rest of her was very skinny as well, and her face was pale, and streaked with tears. She didn’t look good.

“Are you..... ok?” Nat asked, in Russian as well. Wanda wiped her nose, and looked at her. She tilted her head to the front of the barn, where a large, black, coffin lay. Natasha fought back tears, but Wanda wasn’t as good at hiding her emotions. She put her hand on Wanda’s shoulder, and they sat in silence until the man at the front started to talk. Most of the ceremony passed without a single word from the audience, accept when she, and Fury, and Agent Hill were asked to come up to the front and speak about him. It was very difficult to talk about Clint, but Nat found it in herself to do it. She talked about what he had done for her, and how they had fought together, the third time telling anyone about it in front of dozens. She told about how he had taken her to S.H.I.E.L.D for recruitment instead of killing her, and how he had trusted her. When she was talking, it seemed real. Clint was dead, and he wasn’t coming back. As she made her way back to her seat, a few words of apology came from the people she past. She appreciated the gesture, and murmured thanks, but she didn’t really hear any of it. She sat with her hands folded in her lap without a word for the rest of the service until the audience was asked to stand for the burial.

Natasha and Wanda stood, and exited their row. From then on, Nat decided she would be Wanda’s personal bodyguard. They scanned the sea of guests for Steve, Tony, Thor, and Bruce. Wanda pulled on Natasha’s arm to the left, and yanked her through a patch of people to Thor.

“Ah, hello, Maximoff girl.” He said.

“Yeah, come on Mr. Lightning.” Natasha grabbed Thor’s muscled arm, and pulled him to where a large crowd of people had gathered around a deep hole in the grass. She pushed Wanda, Thor, and herself through the crowd, and found where Clint was being buried. The headstone read:

Death is a painful truth

Clint Barton

1971 - 2015

She could feel Wanda shaking next to her. As the coffin was being lowered into the grave, Natasha finally let her tears fall.


	9. The way I really thought this was the height of drama

Nat was now shaking as violently as Wanda with renewed grief. Tears poured down her face, sadness filling her all the way up. She raised her hands to her eyes, and covered the wetness there. Her fingers came away damp, and salty. She grabbed Wanda’s hand, and walked as quickly as she could in her impossible shoes back towards the car. She was usually more adept at walking it such heels.

“Natasha, I’m staying here, remember?” Wanda stopped them.

“You’re coming back to Stark Tower and staying in a guest room, it was planned a week ago, your luggage is in the car.” Natasha lied. She needed another girl in the house that wasn’t pestering her about trivial things every few hours (Pepper). Staying with just boys was getting on her nerves. She was trained to be able to withstand any company, but this wasn’t a mission. Wanda could just use her clothes, tank tops and sweatpants fits all. Wanda nodded, and squirmed her hand out of Natasha’s tough grip. She realized she was squeezing very hard, and her nails were white.

“Do you want me to find a happy memory?” The Witch asked, raising her hands, already shimmering with red magic. It sounded very nice, but Natasha needed to cope without short cuts. She nodded against her will, and bit her lip. She closed her eyes, and prepared for the flashbacks, remembering the last time Wanda messed with her brain. A flash of scarlet against her eyelids lit her vision, and everything went black. She felt herself still standing, but she wasn’t really there.

She was standing in Clint’s guest room, Bruce was standing in front of her. This was the memory that first came to her? Ok... that was odd, usually she would’ve thought her happy memory would be a mission, or really anything but this. She heard Bruce’s voice, as if at the end of a tunnel.

“What are you.. doing?” He shook his head, with that expression of obliviousness, and she remembered staring at him, realizing what she was doing, the emotion that was pumping through her veins. The feeling of giving in to instinct, of “running with it”. It had all been new to her, but she had.... liked it.

“I’m running with it. With you. If running’s a plan, as far as you want.” The dreamlike version of herself answered, putting her hand on his cheek. His hand gripped hers, and he shut his eyes. She had been so happy then, for once. And he had to ruin it. He had to back away. She knew what was coming, watching it happen. Natasha wanted to reach out to her dream self, and tell her to go for it, to not let him go. Before she could, her mind went blank.

She snapped back to reality, her feet thumping the dirt, as if she had just arrived. Nat surged with renewed trust in Wanda, she wouldn’t let anyone else fiddle with her brain ever again.

“Nat? Natasha?” Wanda’s voice sounded. She kept her eyes shut, clinging to the moment. Natasha decided that she wished she hadn’t accepted Wanda’s magic, it had only made things worse.

“Come on.” She said quietly, leading her to the car. She picked the lock on the door, and climbed in. She realized something with a jolt. “Did you see what I saw?” She asked.

“Yes.” Wanda whispered. Natasha cursed under her breath. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” She answered. She didn’t want another person seeing into her personal life, especially her practically nonexistent ‘love’ life. Because it was nonexistent was not the reason why Natasha didn’t want her to know about it, and Wanda seemed to get it. Don’t pry. She placed a chilly, pale, hand on Nat’s shoulder, and Natasha let her keep it there. She knew she was getting softer, but she knew as well that she needed to let herself.


	10. Every time I catch sight of a sentence while I copy these over I lose five years of my life

Back at the tower, Wanda found her way to her room, and Nat retreated to hers, collapsing on the bed, face first. She sat up, and yanked her painful red shoes off of her aching feet. She hurled them at the wall angrily, the heels creating deep cracks in the white paint. Tony would not be happy. Oh well, she would deal with him later. And Pepper. And everyone else. She rummaged through her drawers, and dug out some gray pajama pants, and a S.H.I.E.L.D sweatshirt. She yanked the dress off her shoulders, pulling the sweatpants over her pale legs, where angry goosebumps had formed. Natasha just sat on the edge of her bed, stewing in her depressing thoughts, and memories of Clint. A certain scientist often protruded her thoughts, each image creating a deeper gash in the smoke screen keeping him out. Her heightened perception picked up an incoherent knock on her door, so silent that she inferred immediately it was Bruce. Uncertain whether or not to let him in, she continued to sit on her bed, letting her curls fall over her face dramatically.

“Come in.” She decided. He opened the door, and quietly tread into her room, still in his funeral-wear. It only made her more upset, and she looked back down at the floor.

“You ok, Natasha?” Bruce asked. She shook her head the smallest amount, but he saw it. He folded his hands behind his back, and rocked on his feet, exactly like he had before the funeral. His face, tanned, and lined, was creased with doubt, as if he were about to do something he might regret.

“You?” Natasha prided herself on her ability to keep conversations away from the topic of herself, even if it meant one word answers. He didn’t respond. She kept the silence between them, unsure whether to break it for fear of what he would assume. Or what she would do if she let herself go. Would she start crying again? Would she forgive him way too easily? Both of these were possibilities, and Nat tried her best not to let them control her. Without a word, he came and sat down on the bed next to her. She didn’t bother asking him to remove himself from her room. Bruce might have been very shy, and she could persuade him of things without effort, but she knew somehow that he wouldn’t take his leave if she asked him to this time. 

He grabbed her hands, and pulled her up, and off the bed until their faces were less than four inches from each other. Natasha could feel every breath that escaped his lips, and the pounding of her own heart that she tried with all her might to stop.

“Natasha, tell me.” He spoke almost inaudibly, but firmly; staring her straight in the eyes for the first time. “Tell me what is bothering you.” She returned his gaze without hesitation, steadfastly taking in everything about him. His face was turning a little red, and his eyes began to shift to the ceiling as if beginning to question the situation. Every moment they had had together, from when she was sent to get him in Calcutta, to his abrupt departure was replaying in her head at frantic speed. His unwillingness to come with her to S.H.I.E.L.D, to when he broke their moment at Clint’s, to the expression on what she assumed was both of their faces when he ended the video call after the battle a year ago. Every emotion that had whirled through her being during all these times were chasing each other through her now, as if they were all new again. She hated the feeling of losing herself in emotion, but it was happening again. Whenever Natasha was with Bruce, all of these feelings renewed themselves. She enjoyed these moments as well, they understood how each other felt, depression, sorrow, joy, adoration..... Everything in between. Whenever they were alone, this happened, and neither of them, she guessed, could comprehend it. 

Back in the present, the assassin could tell Bruce was losing his bravery, so she had to do something. She was trying very hard to find something to do that would save the moment. It was slipping away, just like all the others, and of course, Bruce sensed it too. She hated how open she was during these times, he could read her like a book. This was an impossible feat, normally, and she had liked being an unreadable stoic assassin. This wasn’t a normal situation though. At least to her. She realized that her pale, shaking hands were still clasped in his tanned ones. He pulled her towards him so that they were now only two inches apart.

“When you first came to... get.... me, I knew you were different.” He revealed. She didn’t know how to respond to this, except that it was exactly how she felt at the time. “I know you know whenever this sort of thing happens where we’re alone, we share emotions, and I can feel your anxiousness, and grief radiating off of you.” Her cheeks turned red, and her hands shook even more violently, paling even whiter than before. “I never understood what my feelings towards you were, but now I know, and just opening your door took every ounce of my strength that I have, but at the same time I wanted to come barreling in.” Bruce continued. He had never been this open, or this brave around her, but she figured she deserved it, she had told him quite a lot. It was his turn. He released one of her hands, and put his on her chin, tilting her head up so she could stare directly into his nervous brown eyes. They were shining, and afraid, like a deer’s, reflecting every emotion she was feeling. Natasha was honestly very surprised at the duration of his courage, and decided to let him keep going. “I realized only very recently what all of my feelings meant, and they all lead to you in any way shape or form, as hard as I tried to deny it, knowing you would never forgive me for leaving. But, I decided to come and try anyway, and to this moment I’m praying that it’s going to be worth it, so, I’m just going to say it.” What was going on? He took a deep breath, and shut his eyes. He opened them again, they were shining even brighter than before, the brown glowing like bronze. “Natasha, Tasha, I-I-I.... love you.”

How, she had no idea, but Natasha knew that she had to do something. She saw his face rapidly falling as she struggled to choke out the words in return. Nothing she had ever faced in her entire life working for S.H.I.E.L.D had ever been this difficult. 

“I still adore you” it came out jumbled and raspy, but his expression began to return. She grabbed his tux collar, and pulled him to her, filled the gap between them. For that moment, nothing else existed except them. And she accepted it. The world melted away, it was just the two of them, standing there, kissing, and nothing else mattered either. Her fist was still clenched around the fabric of his shirt, twisting the material. They just stayed there, she was on her toes, and he was bending down. All of her feelings flooded out of her, into the kiss, her hand, and Bruce’s still holding onto each other for dear life; as if they were both expecting to awaken from a dream, and were holding onto it with every fiber of their beings. His entire body relaxed, as the threat of her pushing him away, and off a cliff seemed to fall away. She knew that was probably why he had been nervous to come and speak to her. When she had done it, her body was screaming in protest, not wanting to sacrifice his newfound trust in her, but she had forced herself to do it for the good of the mission. Well, she knew how that had resolved, and paid a year-long price for it. They both pulled away, and stood in front of each other just staring for a full minute, her lips tingling.

He looked at her, asking a silent question, and she nodded. Natasha sat down on the bed, and Bruce sat next to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders; criss crossing her torso. They felt warm, and tense, but sensing her sensing the tenseness, he relaxed. Again, they just sat there, her petite frame fitting perfectly in his, his chin resting nestled in her curls. She took this time to think, instead of melting down right there, like she was dying to do. She thought about how after the Hulk had ravaged that city in Wakanda, and the Avengers had to resort to Clint's place. She thought about when she had opened up to him, told him everything; that was when she knew. When she realized he was different. Then she knew that their conversation at the goodbye party was not a complete lie, and she  _ had  _ never met anyone like him. Tasha had just been using that time to talk to him, making up topics of conversation to keep his gaze on her. She never practiced this, as she never wanted any attention before, from anyone. 

Though they differed in many ways, similar struggles of never fitting in, and endlessly hopping from place to place stuck with them both. These struggles were parts of them now, they had both learned to live with it. Then, the battle of Ultron started, and she’d kissed him right then and there. She had meant it only as a distraction she knew would work, but as they stood there, she only then figured out all the emotions swirling inside her. She was expecting the kiss to be nothing, like the one she’d shared with Steve when they were hiding from the Hydra agents pursuing them in the mall. This one was different, it was love, and true, he loved her, at long last, she returned it. Then she'd pushed him. Natasha had never felt so disgusted with herself, even after tearing apart countless families at once with a single bullet. After that, she had tried to be an emotional brick, devoid of feeling, which was one of the reasons why his return was so devastating for her. There were many other reasons why his return held mixed emotions, but this was one of the main ones, she had been trying to seem emotionless. Well, that had epicly failed, most obviously to Pepper, of course. And now, as he held her, and she wrapped his arms closer around her, she knew that she actually did love him; and all the acting she’d been doing seemed futile. At that moment, She felt the happiest she had ever been in her life.


	11. Do you think it's possible for God to reclaim the pieces of Himself He's placed in us

Natasha twisted in her bed after a solid three hours of sleep. Her limbs were tangled in the sheets, odd, since she usually slept stoically still, and oddly tired. Though with  _ recent events  _ sleeping hadn’t come easy to her. She would lay in silence for hours after she went to bed, thinking, and trying to sleep. Thoughts of the previous night whirled around in her head, invading her early morning dreams. A bird chirped outside the window. She was not Cinderella, why wouldn’t these birds stop bothering her? They were detracting from her dearly needed sleep. She rolled out of bed, her mind still spinning. 

Everything hit her at once. Bruce loved her. He had said so, right to her face, and she’d said at least something close  _ back _ . Her heart performed a swan dive, and leapt back up into her chest. Bruce had said he loved her, and she nearly him. What had come over her?! This was what she thought after every moment alone with him, she always got dangerously close to what had happened last night. She should just admit it to herself that they  _ had  _ kissed,  _ twice, _ and it wasn’t some crazy dream her sleep-deprived brain had come up with. It wouldn’t be a shock, necessarily.

Tasha dragged her feet to her dresser, took a pair of black drawstring sweatpants, and a sweatshirt she stole from Tony. She pulled the sweatshirt over her head, and sat back down on the bed. Her fingers knitted together as she sat there. The third knock on the door in the past two days interrupted her thoughts. She remained silent, hearing heavy breathing on the other side of the door, and the clicking of unnaturally high heels. Pepper. Again. Was she upset about something? Her breathing was usually very even tempered.

“Tony busy?” She opened the door to reveal a very shaken Pepper. There were bags under her eyes, her blouse left untucked. Her pencil skirt that was usually straight and perfect was creased and looked unwashed, like an Office Depot had vomited all over it. Ink was splattered, and curls of metal were embedded in the fabric, unwinding several threads. Her hair was a mess of unkempt curls hanging by her shoulders, laying stringy, and disheveled around her face.

“You ok, Natasha, you look like you haven’t slept.” She said. Natasha gaped at her open mouthed. 

“You look like a racoon.” Natasha pointed out.

“Can I come in?” Pepper ignored the comment. Natasha stepped out of the way, letting Pepper through to take her place sitting on the bed.

“Uh, did the lab barf on you?” Tasha asked. Pepper shook her head, and, without a word, handed her a piece of crumpled and slightly burned paper. On the paper, written in sloppy handwriting in what looked like latin read: Habemus ei . Si autem vis ad eum venient, et morietur

“I don’t know what it means, but JARVIS is detecting Latin. Since it’s a dead language, he doesn’t know it, but you do.” Pepper explained. “Do you know what it means.” Natasha glanced at the paper, it’s message ominous. There was no point in trying to dodge telling Pepper what it meant, she had to. 

“We have him. Come and get him if you wish to die. Who do ‘they’ have, Pepper?” Tears streaked the dust coating Pepper’s face, her eyes filling with more.

“I went up to the lab, to see if Tony or Bruce wanted breakfast, and I found a ten foot tall  _ thing  _ up there that was covered in silver armor. It was clutching Tony’s unconscious form to it’s chest, and it was writing this message before crashing right through the wall. Bruce was pressed against the wall, and there was something in his hand that he dropped onto the desk. I’ll go back for that later, and prod into his personal business. Some metal might have been shredded off the armor from the security protocols surrounding the lab, and pens exploded. That’s why there’s ink and steel springs on me.” She explained quickly, not bothering to pluck out the small coils of metal. The chitauri. Did the chitauri have Tony?

“Ok, Pepper, calm down.” Tasha decided on a solidly determined, and flat expression. “We will get Tony back, but first, clean yourself up.” Pepper rose from the bed, no words necessary, and retreated to her room to change. Natasha flopped backwards onto her bed, and took it all in. Tony was gone, the chitauri had him, and Pepper was freaking out. Natasha stared at the ceiling, which was as devoid of imperfections as it was the other five times she had done this in the past two days. If the chitauri did have Tony, he would probably be dead within two days. He had accidentally blown up the suit that came when called a few days earlier. He and Bruce had been in the lab working on some experiment, and Natasha had heard Pepper shrieking at Tony from a few rooms away. 

After about ten minutes, Pepper opened the door without knocking, and plopped back down on the bed. Her strawberry blonde hair was somehow now perfect, makeup done flawlessly, and a new suit on. Her eyes were still red, but this hardly detracted from her appearance. She folded her hands in her lap, and looked down at Natasha. Tasha sat up from her position, and looked back at Pepper. Without a word, Pepper pulled Natasha into a huge, and unforeseen hug that nearly choked the life out of her.

“Uh, Pepper?” Natasha pushed Pepper off of her shoulders, and felt wetness where Pepper’s head had been a moment before. Pepper was crying again, not bothering to wipe her eyes.

“This is the third time Tony has been gone, all of them worrying, but this time someone took him from home.” Pepper said loudly, lowering her gaze to the pillows gathered at the foot of Tasha’s bed. “I’m starting to think it’s a habit.”

“You think he does it on purpose?” Natasha snarked. Why would Tony ever do that, even being his attention-hogging self? He knew how much Pepper freaked out when he went missing. Pepper nodded. “Pepper, as much as I hate to say this, Tony isn’t that huge of an idiot when he tries.” Tasha kind of assumed Pepper was only saying this because she didn’t know what else to think, being Pepper, she latched onto every possibility like a leach.

“I know, I just don’t know what else to believe.” Pepper confirmed.

“Got that.”


	12. @ tumblr user biggest_gaudiest_patronus, if you find this, you better review it. Bitch.

“There’s something else.” Pepper said shakily. “I found what Bruce left on the counter.” Pepper opened her clenched fist. A small piece of paper rested there, though this one looked a lot less damaged than the note left by the chitauri. Slanting, slightly rushed cursive decorated it. Natasha took the paper from Pepper’s fingers, and looked down at the messy writing.

Natasha, 

Before you make any judgements, I just want to say, I’m sorry. I could never get up the nerve to come and talk to you myself, so here’s a note. You know if you can never forgive me for leaving, being you, I would understand. Like I said a month or so back, ending the call killed me, seeing your face like that, I never want to see that look again, definitely not by my doing; or anyone else’s. All I want to say, is that every day I was gone, I missed your beautiful red hair like fire falling around your face, and your piercing green eyes that see right through me. I just want to say that every day without you was torture, and I thought about you every day. I just want to say, I missed your funny little comments to Tony, and snarky reminders to Cap about his language. You brighten everything around me, and whenever I see you, a small, glowing halo immediately appears over your head in my vision. Even if you don’t see yourself as anything more than an assassin (but that’s not my business), I see you as so much more. I missed everything about you, and want to stop using “I”” so much. I want to talk about you. So, if you’re not too busy, there’s a new restaurant just off of Time Square I’ve been envisioning about going to with you to every since it opened. I’m really not suited to this sort of thing, so please excuse any sloppy actions, or mis-writings, I just.... miss you.

Write back, please,

Bruce

PS 

I purposely left this on the desk for Pepper to find, if you were wondering.

Natasha looked up from the note. She really could not believe what she had just read, did Bruce really write this? Did he have Tony do it, or was it a prank?

“Did you read this?” already knowing, and fearing the answer, the assassin looked back up at Pepper. Slowly, Pepper nodded. “What do you think I should do?” She asked. Pepper was clearly expecting no less than a fully blown ambush, judging by her expression.

“Why are you asking me?” Pepper brushed some of her already perfect hair over her shoulder, and looked at the wall over Natasha’s left shoulder.

“I’m no good at this stuff.” Tasha said stiffly. Pepper bowed her head, and laughed.

“True, you’re not exactly...cut out for this sort of thing, but..... yeah, I think you should write him back, and say you’ll go.” She answered.

“You don’t think it’s the wrong time, with Tony gone.” This effectively shut Pepper up, who was already blabbering useless suggestions for what she called a date.

“Bruce doesn’t seem to think so, and I think the timing is better. You both need some relaxation with...Clint...... and all that.” Pepper responded. Clint was exactly who she was hoping Pepper would not bring up, but he was out there now. Natasha’s jaw tightened, her walls building back up. She had pushed them down for this talk with Pepper, but they were rebuilding now, since Clint was in the air.

“Fine, I’ll go.” She sighed.

“I don’t want to force you....” Pepper said quickly.

“No, I.... want to go.” Tasha decided. She actually figured that she did want to go, but note exchanging was not going to cut it. She would talk to Bruce herself. Pepper exited the room, shutting the door behind her, to leave Tasha with her now even more jumbled thoughts for the second time. 


	13. Ah yes, the one where I copy a Russian lullaby... in Russian. Into the fic.

As Tasha sat on her bed in silence, she thought about possibilities. Possibilities of where Tony could be, and what she would say to Bruce upon finding him. She had to work on Tony’s dilemma before her personal life though, so she made her way out of her room, and into the living room. Steve, Thor, and Bruce, what remained of the Avengers, were sitting on the oversized couch in silence. A very distraught Pepper perched on the arm of the sofa, an empty champagne flute clenched in her pale, shaking hand. Natasha walked soundlessly over to her, plucked the glass out of her non-resistant grip, and threw it behind her against the wall; where it shattered. She ignored this, and took Pepper by the shoulders. She looked Pepper straight in her brown, puffy eyes with her own vibrant green ones.

“Pepper, snap out of it, this has happened before right?” Pepper nodded slowly, her eyes even wetter than before. The team watched her progress silently from their positions on the couch, probably astonished she would even apply physical contact to calm anyone. “So, we know he’ll probably appear out of nowhere in some desert waving his hands around like the lunatic he is in about a month, but if he doesn’t show up in a week, we’ll go after him.” 

“Nat, are you sure we should wait that long?” Steve asked from the couch. Natasha avoided flinching at the usage of Clint’s old name for her.

“Yeah he’ll turn up.” She repeated. Whatever was taking over Natasha, making it so that her teammates’ safety wasn’t her first priority, she wanted it to stop. She had an idea as to what it was, and pushed the thought aside. The doctor staring up at her from the couch five feet away was not helping, neither was her deceased best friend’s name for her; and neither was the norse god sitting only a little farther from her, arching his eyebrows, staring at the ceiling. Thor pounded the table unexpectedly, making Steve and Bruce jump.

“No, we shall retrieve Stark from his captivity as soon as possible.” He rose from his seat, his cape flourishing in all it’s Asgardian glory. Thor turned to focus on Natasha with a rather angry expression on his face. “Is there a purpose as to why your concern for the metal man is dwindling?” He asked. Natasha was taken aback at the question, having not started to care less for Tony, though care for him was low originally.

“I never cared for him much in the first place.” She responded. “But I just thought he usually turns up after a week or so either too drunk to walk, or arrogant as ever.” Steve and Bruce nodded, looking back up at Thor.

“She has a point.” Cap validated. Tasha tilted her head slightly towards him.

“See, he gets it.”

“Tony needs to be located soon though, if the chitauri have him, won’t they try to........” Bruce finally spoke. “Do to him what they did to Clint?” Natasha, Steve, Pepper, and Thor all looked at him. He shrank in his clothes at all the attention, but called to JARVIS. He and Tony had worked on re-programming JARVIS after they had put him into Vision, and it had been a success after three months of many sleepless nights. “Hey, JARVIS”

“Yes Sir?”

“Does Tony have his phone on him?” Bruce asked.

“I’ll check, sir.” The merry band sat in silence for a few moments while JARVIS searched his servers for Tony’s number. “He seems to be in some abandoned military base in New Mexico.”

“New Mexico?” Pepper and Thor inquired at the same time.

“I met Jane there.” Thor answered the looks from Steve and Bruce. “She slammed into me with her midgardian vehicle. Mistakenly, of course”

“How romantic.” Steve said.

“How did the chitauri get to New Mexico in two hours?” Pepper asked, puzzled, as she bent to pick up the pieces of the shattered champagne flute. She scooped them into a small plastic bag, and threw them into the automatic trash can in the kitchen.

“Oh, it took them less than that to arrive there. They have been developing teleportation technology ever since we found a way to destruct their portal.” Thor offered.

“What kind of technology?” Tasha demanded.

“I do not know, Asgard has not decided to medal in this matter.”

“Not helping, Lightning Man.” Steve reported, rising to clasp Thor’s chain-covered shoulder. Pepper sighed.

“Well, let’s get over there as soon as possible, Steve, can you get a quinjet to help?” She turned to Cap.

“I’ll talk to Agent Hill.” He said, walking back into the hallway. And with that, Thor launched himself off of the balcony, Pepper retreated to her room, and Bruce went back to the lab, leaving Natasha to follow one of them. She chose Bruce, just out of curiosity of his and Tony’s latest science project. She crept behind him at a slow pace, and slipped through the glass door. After a few moments of watching, she spoke from her corner.

“I’m just here to observe.” She said, startling him from his stupor, hunched over his work table.

“Natasha!” He adjusted his glasses on his nose, and turned to her. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I’m good at that. What are you working on?” She moved to see the papers on the desk, and he hurriedly covered them with his hands. The words Tasha could make out were ‘people’, ‘time’, and ‘date’. Was the physicist seriously considering following through with taking her to the restaurant? She had decided it was a joke from Tony, but he seemed serious.

“Nothing, boring stuff, chemicals.” Bruce covered quickly, grabbing the paper, and shoving it into a drawer.

“Ok. I’m just here to watch whatever you’re doing. I’m bored.” The trained assassin leaned against a wall, and folded her arms. “Unless I’m disturbing you.”

“No!” He tripped over a low-hanging pipe that connected two machines she assumed she shouldn’t mess with. He fell to the ground, and scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could, rubbing his ankle. Natasha grabbed an ice pack sitting on the desk, and handed it to him, pulling one of the chairs from a nearby desk under her. They sat in silence, both of them feeling awkward as to how to react to each other after the episode the night before. Bruce nursed his sore ankle, and Tasha watching. When she caught him staring at her, he would absentmindedly look away, and back to his foot. He placed the ice pack on the desk behind him, and continued to work on whatever filled the test tube to his right while she watched. 

He would grope for chemicals every once in awhile, measure them, pour them in sequentially, observe the results, write them down, and over again. He rose from his chair, gracefully hit his head on another machine, and collapsed back into the chair. All of this tension seemed unnecessary, and the Hulk had not been let loose in quite a while. Was the Other Guy becoming restless? Well, if he was, Natasha figured he should be let out somewhere secluded. She would go with him, and calm his rage after a while.

“You should let the Other Guy out for a while.” She suggested. His head jerked upward to look at her in astonishment.

“You want me to unleash  _ him _ ? Here?” Bruce gaped.

“No, somewhere isolated, like the huge field near the Barton’s place.” She had put a bit of thought into this idea, it didn’t sound that bad, and Tasha doubted Laura would object as long as they were a distance away. At least far enough so the kids wouldn’t hear any commotion.

“Ok.” Bruce said, more readily than Natasha would have thought he would give in. She saw a flicker of green in his soft hazel eyes, like a shard of glass trying to pierce through a cotton blanket. The look in his eyes said he would probably give in soon to the beast, they had to leave quickly.

They made their way down to the Stark Tower lobby, meeting Steve along the way. Natasha made some excuse, and they continued on their way. She took her car keys from her pocket, and lead Bruce to her heavily equipped black Chevy.

“Don’t worry, it’s nearly indestructible.” She said in response to his concerned nature. He ducked uncertainly into the passenger seat, and she took her place behind the wheel. They drove for two hours in silence, when they arrived at the field, a good distance away from the Bartons’, the duo climbed out of the car. “Ok, so.....do your thing.” She shooed him. 

“You sure about this?” He asked anxiously.

“Yes, I can calm you if the Other Guy gets out of hand.” Bruce gave her one last look, and grew into the familiar green bean. The Other Guy turned to face her, as if asking permission, the last trace of brown disappearing from his eyes. “Well, go ahead.” Tasha waved her hand, and the Hulk leapt into the sky, grabbing onto a tree a hundred feet away. He ripped it out of the ground, and continued to the next. She stood there with her arms folded, watching him before she realized what direction he was going in. He was going to the exact location of the Bartons’. She let her face change for a fraction of a second before bolting to her car, and clambering in. “Drive!” She yelled to the car. “Barton place, maximum speed!” The wheels screeched, and dirt flew up from the path, as the car took off down the way. She could barely see Mr. Anger Management from her window, but she kept on his tail in hot pursuit. “Stop!” The door flew open, and Tasha pulled a pistol from a compartment on the side, leaping out of the car. She knew the gun would do nothing, but she always felt slightly safer when her fingers were clenched around a metal handle. Natasha ran quickly to the clearing where Clint’s house was, to find the Hulk twenty yards from the door. The Other Guy growled when he saw her, changing direction to come at her, instead of the house.

“Hey, Big Guy.” She wasn’t wearing any gloves, so she reached out her pale hand to his huge green one. “The sun’s getting real low.” He didn’t respond as he usually did, and instead turned back to the barn, then to her again.

Natasha had one idea that might work, but she had been hoping not to ever have to use it. She never let anyone hear her sing. The Red Room used ballet as a distraction from what they actually did with the twenty eight girls, so she would be required to sing with her performance. Ever since then, she never sung. Ever. In her days in the training place, her instructors would tell her to sing for them when they got stressed, which was often. This was one of the reasons why she never sung anymore. Somehow, she knew only her melodious voice would calm the vicious green beast. She opened her mouth, and closed her eyes. Tasha began to sing, her voice deep, and rich, sounding quite like an old forties star. Her voice was soft, yet powerful, it commanded attention, which was exactly why she never sung. It was an old Russian lullabye that flowed from her mouth:

Спи, младенец мой прекрасный,

Баюшки-баю.

Тихо смотрит месяц ясный

В колыбель твою.

Стану сказывать я сказки,

Песенку спою;

Ты ж дремли, закрывши глазки,

Баюшки-баю. 

As she finished the lullabye, she slowly opened her eyes. The familiar scientist she had hoped would appear was now lying huddled in the grass. Tasha looked up, and standing ten feet from her crouched self were Thor, Steve, and Pepper. All of them were gaping at her in surprise. Evidently, they had heard her singing, and were all shocked to hear the assassin had a voice.

“How’d you get here?” Natasha asked casually, rising to her feet. She grabbed a blanket from the bag slung over her shoulder, and wrapped it around Bruce’s shaking form. She stood facing her friends, as they continued to stare at her as if her head had morphed into her spider namesake. “Say something.”

“We, uh, we have a tracker on your car.” Pepper held up her Stark pad where a blinking blip was hovering exactly over their location. “We saw you leave.”

“And you followed me. Why?”

“We saw Bruce was with you, and we were wondering what you two were planning.” Steve saved Pepper the uncomfortable answer she assumed had to do with her and Bruce’s......relationship. Pepper had been watching them like a hawk looking for what she called ‘developments’, checking cameras, and asking JARVIS every day if anything had happened. Natasha was getting sick of it. She would confront Pepper later. “So you let the Hulk out. Why.” He repeated her question back at her.

“Bruce was getting twitchy, knocking things over in the lab, so we,” Bruce looked up at her from his position in the grass. “ _ I  _ thought it was time to let the Other Guy let off some steam.” She responded simply.

“On a rather different note, we didn’t know you could sing!” Pepper shrieked. Natasha blushed, something she never did.

“No one does.”

“So why did you choose this time to share, exactly?” 

“Not even Clint knew I could sing, it’s.... in the past.” She glanced at Bruce, who seemed to understand.

“Yes, your melody is calming.” Thor announced. A shiver was sent down her spine at this mention, the purpose her voice was heard at all in the Red Room.

“Thanks.” Tasha said inaudibly. “We should get back to the tower.”

“Yes, we should.” Steve turned around, and headed for the car that Pepper, he, and Thor had taken, while Natasha and Bruce retreated to hers.

  
“That was eventful. I wonder why the lullabye didn’t work, we’ll have to work on that, but I wouldn’t mind hearing you sing every time the big guy comes out. He wouldn’t either” he blurted. “They  _ are _ right, you know, you can sing.” Natasha blushed a second time, and focused her gaze on the road.


	14. End me

Natasha pulled on her black catsuit, and loaded the guns in the holsters attached to her thighs. A week had past, and no word from Tony, or another mysterious message from their alien friend. Cap had gotten their quinjet from Maria, and the new Avengers, Cap, Wanda, Vision, Sam, and Tony’s friend Rhodey were getting their necessary supplies for the new mission. After the battle with Ultron, Cap and Bruce had tried to explain Vision to her, and failed, but she was used to him by now. 

Bruce was occupying himself with his science work that Natasha didn’t understand (though she doubted it was science judging by the paper she had caught a glimpse of), and Thor was busy on Asgardian business. He had parted on the word of five somethings called “infinity stones” that the spy had no idea what the heck he was talking about. She pulled a few metal disks from her closet, and tucked them into her pockets. More than last time when the Avengers had gone to see what was happening below the tower, resulting in a painful loss. Tasha’s heart thudded remembering this was the new Avengers’ first mission without Clint there to wave them off with a sarcastic comment. 

Just as she finished locking her “widow’s bite” to her wrists, her door opened (without knocking, she grudgingly noticed), admitting Sam clad in his falcon jetpack and sunglasses he insisted were for eye protection but Steve and Tasha always made fun of him for. 

“You ready to go?” He asked.

“Yeah.” She stood up from her bed, clicking the vials of stunning liquid into her deadly bite. The duo walked through the hallways, Sam’s arms hitting her once in awhile. “Hey Footloose, watch your arms.” He stopped, and they continued in silence. Once they arrived at the hanger, Natasha saw Steve, Wanda, Vision, Rhodey, and surprisingly Bruce waiting for them in the quinjet. Steve looked impatient, and Bruce looked nervous, Wanda stared at the floor. From what she had gathered about the Maximoffs, a bomb had landed in their apartment that was sent by Stark Industries, it was possible she still had a grudge. Second thoughts about helping Tony?

“Natasha.” Nodded Steve.

“Agent Romanoff.” Vision and Rhodey said.

“Hey Tasha.” Bruce greeted quietly. Wanda remained silent.

“Hey.” Natasha answered. She and Sam clambered into the jet, and took their respective seats.  _ Why is Wanda quieter than usual? Sure, she was never talkative, but there was never just this dead silence. Hm, it’s not a completely outlawed possibility that she’s working against Tony, you can never be too certain.  _ Tasha thought.  _ Focus, Romanoff, you have to work to save the sarcastic idiot, then worry about Wanda, even though I’m probably being paranoid, there’s no harm in digging. Hiding something? She has seen my.....memory.....of my...time.....with Bruce, is she changing what she thinks of me? I guess that’s fair.  _ Throughout the entire flight, Natasha had a sneaking suspicion that Bruce was stealing glances at her, but she kept her silence.

Three very uncomfortable hours later (spent in utter silence), the quin jet touched down in a shaded area near the military base on the edge of the US border near Mexico. All of the Avengers traipsed cautiously out of the jet, still without a word, Steve going first to give them the all clear. He waved his hand impatiently, and Sam went next, followed by Vision, then Tasha. They all stood under a single tree in the middle of a pretty much desert next to the base scanning their surroundings. Rhodey was dressed in his full War Machine suit, which must have been incredibly hot, as Natasha was burning up in just her black jumpsuit. Steve beckoned the Avengers to tell them the plan he had been conceiving secretly since Tony had gone missing.

“Plan, Bruce and Rhodey, you two cause a distraction in the main hallway while Natasha, and Wanda sneak in through the back door, and try and get the chitauri off of Sam, Vision and my scent.” they nodded, “Sam, you and I are going to find Tony, and bring him outside to the waiting jet.” It was very uncomplicated for the time it had taken Cap to come up with it, but he seemed happy with it, and the spy was not going to argue; even though she thought she was best at coming up with plans.

“Is this a Code Green?” Bruce asked nervously. Steve made eye contact with Tasha, and they she nodded automatically. She was not going to lie, the Other Guy terrified her, but since he now required singing to calm him down, it was even  _ more  _ required that only her perform it than the original lullabye. It made her feel useful, and she secretly enjoyed the feeling of being the only one to possess the ability to control Mr. Green Bean. Bruce looked anxious, but this was how he always looked before a mission, especially one involving an appearance from his alter-ego. 

She gestured at Wanda, and they both sped quickly across the rocky sand to the gigantic base, their hair flying behind them without a glance back. They stopped fifty feet from the door, and pressed themselves against the metal walls of the gigantic structure. 

“There are only two guards stationed at the back door, and three more in the hallways, I can take out them all, but it might seem suspicious if they all are just lying there, so can you use your magic to levitate them outside?” The Witch remained silent, but nodded. _Reluctance? No,_ _focus on the mission_. Natasha ran wordlessly towards the two guards standing rigidly at the door, pausing to size them up. _Soldier Number One looks tall, muscular, but that’s a guard stereotype, should be easy, just need leverage. Take him out first. Soldier Number Two looks slightly more scrawny, but just as tall, pistol concealed probably in his belt, be ready to duck._ She nodded at Wanda, and proceeded to the entrance.

“Hey, Soldiers.” She smirked flirtatiously at them before striking out with her foot, sending Soldier Number One sprawling in the dust. They seemed now to realize this red-haired woman was a threat, and bore “intimidating” expressions that looked more like angry cats. Tasha wrapped her foot around Thug Number Two’s ankle, and pulled, hearing a crack in the bone. She straightened up, and punched him in the face, blood now covering his nose, just like Bruce’s when she first saw him. He swung his fist at her face, missing terribly, but still she needed to focus on things other than Bruce. She grabbed Thug Number Two’s fist, and flipped him around, leaving him unconscious on the rocky ground. Thug Number One regained his footing, and moved to try and grab her shoulders. She took his wrists, and twisted them back, distracting him momentarily for her to duck under his gaze, and take him by the waist. She used the temporary advantage to flip him over her shoulder.

“Ok, Wanda, can you come and hover these thugs over to the tree?” Wanda came into view from around the building, and held out her hands, twisting her wrists into positions that must have been uncomfortable. The bodies of the guards floated themselves to the tree, bathed in a red magical glow. Natasha had taken the ID badge of one of Thug Number One when she ducked, and she swiped it over the keypad next to the door. It opened with a swoosh. “Thank you, Mr........” She checked the card. “E” She tucked the badge into a pocket on her waistband, and walked into the cold hallways of the military base. She realized with a jolt that this was where Bruce had been held captive before he had met her, she knew from reading his files when she released them to the general public. The heat of the wasteland behind the duo immediately disappeared when the door closed, the three guards Natasha had predicted to be there noticing her and Wanda, and stepped towards them. Natasha made short work of them, and left them to Wanda to dispose of. They walked down the corridors, passing synchronously placed metal door after synchronously placed metal door, before halting at one open one. 

Tasha peared into the room, and saw a very metallic alien standing hunched over a large worktable. She put a finger to her lips to show Wanda to be quiet, and snuck silently into the room. The chitauri general raised it’s head. They froze, and ducked under a table. They sat crouched there for a couple minutes before the chitauri bent back over his work. The spy took her phone from a pouch, and began typing a message to Wanda:

‘we communicate like this until the chitauri is out of action’ she wrote. Wanda quickly read the message, and pulled out her own phone.

Wanda: ‘ok’

Natasha: ‘can you use your magic to knock it out? I can fry it with my discs after you do that’

Wanda: ‘I’ll try’

Wanda raised her fingers, crimson magic swirling around them, and closed her eyes. She scrunched her face up in concentration, and wiggled her fingers in the chitauri’s direction. It stood straight up, and fell to it’s knees before collapsing on the floor. It was too easy, there had to be more than that.

Natasha: ‘let’s keep using this, just in case’

Wanda: ‘ok’

They crept out of their hiding place under the desk, and approached the fallen alien. Tasha looked into the back of it’s perfectly polished helmet back at herself. As usual, not a curl of red hair out of place, and vivid green eyes stared back at her. Wanda still looked like she was going to be sick, pale skin, and worried eyes gazing at her nervously, as if she had done something wrong.  _ Maybe my theory isn’t too far off, or this is just a stupid thing I’m obsessing over way too much.  _

Natasha: ‘can you use your magic to flip it over without waking it up?’ 

Wanda moved her hands, and made them glow red again, taking control of the chitauri’s form. Slowly, it flipped over, revealing that mottled greenish-purple skin, and deeply scarred face with slits for nostrils. It’s eyes were closed, thankfully, weapon still put away. It had never suspected them, so it could not be the actual chitauri general, must be a scientist, or some other warrior that’s as size-enhanced, and weaponized as the General. Natasha removed two electric disks from her pockets on her arms, and carefully dropped them into the sides of the helmet between the chitauri’s face, and the metal. Blue sparks skated across it’s face, turning the skin black, and burnt. It was quite disgusting, and Wanda looked even more like she was going to throw up than before.

Natasha: ‘you get used to it’

Wanda: ‘hopefully’

When they were sure that the workman was dead, they exited the room, but not before Natasha snatched some of the papers the chitauri was pouring over.


	15. This is already longer than any fic I've written in the past few years

“Got one chitauri down, seems like Mr. General isn’t the only one down to Earth.” Natasha spoke into her earpiece. Only static. Were the others in danger? Well, Bruce was probably green, so Rhodey might not be in the best shape, but Cap, Sam? “Come on, no one’s responding.” Natasha suggested. Her earpiece crackled to life, and Steve’s voice came through:

“Green.........Banner.......Rhodey down.......Vision trying.......found Tony...” Then it shut off, leaving Wanda and Natasha cut off from the group.

“Where are you?” Natasha tried. Just static again. “Ok, split up, I go to the left, you go to the right, we meet up whenever one of us finds the others.” She said firmly. Wanda nodded, and they went off to their separate directions. Natasha ran swiftly and silently through the narrow hallways, her soundproof shoes making no noise against the tiled floor. She looked into every room she passed, checking for the familiar green monster, or a red animatronic with a yellow laser coming from his forehead. Nothing, until she paused to stare into a large room that was also empty. Her sensitive ears picked up an enraged roar coming from about fifty doors ahead of her. She raced forward, faster than ever, passing door after door until she halted in front of the large metal double doors at the end of the hallway. Through the glass panes, the assassin could hear crashing and yelling, and see the giant Mr. Green being forcefully pinned to the far wall by Vision, who was trying to use his mind-stone laser to distract the Hulk. 

Natasha threw open the doors, and dashed over to Tony Stark’s unconscious body. Steve and Rhodey were huddled over him, checking pulses, and glancing backwards at the commotion while Sam lay just as unconscious next to Tony. Steve and Rhodey acknowledged her, and gestured to Vision’s efforts to contain the Other Guy. She nodded, and wordlessly turned, and walked to the Hulk’s thrashing form.

“Vision.” She yelled over Hulk’s roars. He turned to her, still pinning one of Green Bean’s arms with his entire body. “Let me.” Relief covered the animatronics face as he slowly lowered himself to the ground.

“Be careful, I will keep watch.” He said. She inclined her head, and twisted back to face who she knew held Bruce deep within him. She stood, clenching and unclenching her fists before Hulk, and took a deep breath. Tasha had asked Steve and everyone else not to tell the new Avengers about the new lullabye, hoping it wouldn’t ever have to be used again, but somewhere deep down, she knew the old one would never work again. She opened her mouth, closed her eyes, and let the same words as before flow from her.

“Спи, младенец мой прекрасный, Баюшки-баю. Тихо смотрит месяц ясный

В колыбель твою.” Everyone was now gawking at her, entranced, even Steve, who had already heard before. Rhodey opened his mask, and stared at her without the metal to obstruct his hearing, and his mouth dropped in a very un-government-dignity level ‘o’. Vision still had his hands raised just in case the Hulk escaped, but his green eyes just as vivid as hers were stuck on her. Wanda, who had just entered the room using her magic was also transfixed, her eyes, fingers, and boots still glowing red. Natasha’s face was probably as red as the magic, so she tried to calm herself, looking into the Other Guy’s angry green eyes as she continued to sing,

“Стану сказывать я сказки,

Песенку спою;

Ты ж дремли, закрывши глазки,

Баюшки-баю. “ She finished, looking around the room. Sam had come to, and was staring at her, but Tony remained as unconscious as ever. Tasha ran over to Sam and Tony, and placed her hand over Tony’s throat. “Normal, why isn’t he conscious?” She mumbled. “Sam?” Sam, who was still gazing at her, shook himself, and jumped to answer.

“Yeah, Cap and I ran into a chitauri, and he knocked out Metalhead over here with his weapon.” Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Not the blue glowstick, he just hit him really hard with a metal rod in his belt.”  _ Blacksmiths too? Workmen, scientists, have they taken over the entire military base? Plus the General, where is that metallic idiot? _

“Wanda, can you make him come too?” Steve came out of his stupor, and shocked Wanda out of hers. The Witch began to move her fingers in Tony’s direction, his head bobbing up and down, swirling scarlet magic holding it up. Rhodey was still entranced, but Vision walked over to the huddle, Bruce back, and his arm draped over his shoulder. He lay the shivering scientist next to Tony, where Tasha began to evaluate his vitals. His pulse was still fairly high, but slowing rapidly under her touch, his eyelids fluttering. Natasha let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, and moved to Tony. Bruce groaned when she moved away, but Tasha was reluctant to go back, remember when he didn’t when it was important. She still had not completely forgiven him for his departure, and continued to move towards Tony’s limp form. She placed her hand on his forehead, which was pretty warm, probably from high impact. Tony stirred, crimson magic still encircling his face. He pushed Natasha away from him, and looked confusedly up at Steve.

“Miss me, Spangles?” Tony muttered. Steve exhaled, and gestured for Wanda, Rhodey, and Vision to come over. Everyone started talking at once, suggesting how to get Tony to the jet, the new lullabye, Natasha’s singing voice (she avoided that one). 

“Wanda, can you just hover him there?” Rhodey asked. She nodded, and lifted her hands at him.

“Woah woah, how do we know she’s not going to make me think of bad things again?” Tony said worriedly. Even after the battle with Ultron, he still didn’t fully trust the Witch.

“Tony, I thought we agreed to trust her, plus, you’re not in nearly good enough shape to walk by yourself.” Steve insisted. Tony grimaced, and nodded reluctantly, shifting his arms to his sides, and laying down submissively.

“Do with me what you wish, oh Witchy.” He said sarcastically. She lifted her hands, and his entire body began to glow. He lifted off the ground, and started to float to the doorway. “Ouch! Watch the head!” She adjusted her fingers, and he moved through the double doors towards the quinjet, followed by much grumbling about how she could have damaged brain cells. The other Avengers followed Tony’s progress, Steve pushing his feet through the air while Sam snuck up behind him and sent him spinning through the hallways as Tony cursed loudly. Wanda sent a jet of magic at Sam, and pinned his hands to his sides as he continued to laugh uncontrollably. Bruce leaned against Vision, who was slowly gliding down the hallway, easily supporting the scientist.

“I’ll call Pepper, she should know he’s ok.” Rhodey hung up his communicator after a rather long and heated discussion with a general about Tony’s disappearance. From what Tasha could gather, the general was not happy that Tony had gone missing, and was pinning it on another terrorist, though the Avengers knew better.

“No, wait until we’re out of here, the government and S.H.I.E.L.D can track calls, they’ll know we were here, and come to investigate.” Steve interjected. “We need to keep them oblivious, God, and Natasha knows how they’ve taken information in the last few years.” Sam nodded. Rhodey opened his mask, and sighed.

“I don’t like keeping Pepper in the dark like this.” He said.

“We’ll call her right when we get back to the tower.” Steve promised.

“Ah, but I’ll be too busy collapsing dramatically in her arms for anyone to call her.” Tony declared.


	16. Coulson is mentioned once in this chapter and I'd like to formally apologize to Clark Gregg for that

Three hours later, the jet touched down on the top of the Avengers tower, and the Avengers climbed exhausted out of it. Just as Tony predicted, Pepper came running out onto the platform in her precariously high heels, and took Tony from Rhodey’s grip.

“What happened?!” She yelled.

“Love you too, sweetheart.” Tony replied. “Bed now, interrogation later.”

“I hate you.” Pepper took him inside, as Tony limped just as dramatically as he promised behind her. Bruce, wilting against Sam’s shoulder came out of the jet, and gave Natasha a small smile. 

“Your voice hasn’t gotten any worse.” He commented. Natasha smirked, and rolled her eyes, but she was secretly ok with some recognition of her singing voice from an actual friend. Well, their relationship was complicated, they both knew each other’s feelings for the other, but they hadn’t  _ done  _ anything with them accept create increasingly awkward moments whenever it caught one of their fancies; especially at the most inopportune times. He trudged inside, leaning on Sam, and the Avengers all retreated to their respective rooms. Since Wanda’s room was right next to Tasha’s, they walked together, and parted into their living spaces. 

Natasha sat on the bed, and began to pull off her shoes. Before she could so much as pull the guns out of her holsters, she heard a soft knock on her door, and opened it to find Wanda, Pepper, and Maria Hill clumped together in one ball of excitement.

“Natasha.” Maria said.

“Hey.” Pepper waved nervously. “I dumped Tony on Rhodey.” She said in response to Tasha’s look.

“Maria, Pepper nice to see you too. What do you want.” She looked at the unlikely trio, having no idea for once what they wanted with each other.

“We have all noticed, Nat.” Maria insisted.

“Oh no, you caught me, I made extra coffee yesterday, what will my punishment be?” Tasha exclaimed. Maria and Pepper exchanged looks. Wanda continued to stare at the floor, as if she was dragged there.

“You really have no idea how easy you are to read.” Agent Hill rolled her eyes, shaking some of her raven-colored bangs away from her face. Natasha stared at her blankly, keeping her face devoid of feeling. Her, not being good at hiding herself? Ha. She was the best person she knew at hiding herself, at least accept for Fury, but he didn’t count. The man was a walking brick wall of flat emotionless sarcasm. But her? She did not let anyone in that she didn’t want in.

“We...we only want the best for you.” Tasha turned in surprise to her fellow Russian, as she spoke for the first time in at least two days. She had been contained to her room ever since Clint’s funeral, only leaving for Avengers practices, and a meal every few days. Natasha was grieving too, but she couldn’t afford to go quite that far. 

She was confused along with surprised now, what could they possibly be worried for her about, and even more worrying was how they’d said she was easy to read. She tried her best not to be, and her efforts were almost never matched.

“Excuse me?” She tried. All three of them sighed heavily.

“Nat, we see the way you look at him.” Pepper revealed. Tasha raised her arms sarcastically. 

“Sometimes during missions I’ll give Steve a look of disgust if he says something particularly nobly stupid.” Pepper and Maria looked quickly at each other, and nodded. They each grabbed her by one arm, and attempted to drag her to her bed. Tasha dug her bare heels into the fibers of the carpet, and grabbed Maria’s arm with the hand Pepper was holding, and ducked under Agent Hill’s knees, flipping her onto the floor. Though they were trained similarly, Romanoff had always beaten Maria in sparring sessions. Pepper, who was still trying in vain to keep her grip on Natasha’s wrist, was cast over Tasha’s back, and both of them lay breathless on the carpet. She rose from the ground, and tried to move her hands. She found herself unable to budge them. Tasha looked down. Her wrists were encircled in red magic, pinning them to her sides. She clenched her fists, knowing she could not struggle if she wanted to, as she herself had trained Wanda to use her powers. 

“We just want to talk to you!” Pepper yelled desperately from the floor. “You are so hard to talk to! Every time results with  _ someone  _ on the floor, usually me.” Wanda, who was still standing frozen in the doorway, freed Natasha’s hands, and approached her carefully. She touched Tasha’s arm so lightly it felt as if it had been the ghost of her brother, and not her. Wanda softly gripped her arm, and tugged her down to sit on the bed. She plopped down beside her, and Pepper and Maria gingerly rose from the carpet. They sat behind and next to her, and looked at Wanda.

“You want to go first?” Maria said. It seemed as if they were planning some sort of announcement, which was slightly odd for Wanda, especially then. Wanda nodded gently.

“In our efforts before, we are not talking about Steve, Natasha, we are talking about-”

“Bruce!” Pepper cut her off, unable to contain herself. She wrung her hands, a few loose strands from her bun falling. “I’m sorry, I like being nosy about this sort of thing.” Tasha’s stomach lurched. She was shocked, and upset; Had she not been containing herself? Had her feelings that were undoubtedly now there for Bruce obvious? She had never let her feelings control her, and now was no different. Even worse, had they been _noticing_ her apparent lack of security around him? She turned angrily to Wanda, her orange curls flying around her face as if they were just as annoyed as she was.

“Did you tell them what you saw, when you fiddled with my head at Clint’s?” She said in Russian.

“Yes.” Wanda quietly whispered back. She looked closer and closer to the edge of using her magic to fly out the window by the second. Natasha was even angrier now, she had trusted Wanda with this secret, and she had been betrayed. She guessed she was used to this sort of thing, but not in this context. Love, and all the jumble involved with it was a completely foreign concept to the assassin.

“You didn’t think you could hide forever?” Maria raised an eyebrow. Considering who Maria was, a highly ranking S.H.I.E.L.D officer, and what Natasha considered a friend, she would think Maria would know her better than that; however little Natasha had let her see. She should have figured out that Tasha could, and would usually hide as long, and as densely as she wanted to. Her walls were usually made of titanium, unbreakable to anyone but those she let in, and whose alter ego was able to smash through; though it was not the Other Guy who had broken them. Not being able to conceal her feelings was utterly new to her.

“Yeah.” She replied. Pepper laughed. “Something funny?”

“You.” Pepper said, an identical response to their discussion of Bruce’s note to her. Had she told Maria and Wanda about that too?! She really could never trust any of her personal life with anyone accept Clint, who actually  _ kept  _ his silence, unlike  _ some people _ .

“Guessing you told them about the note and our  _ talk _ as well?” Pepper’s expression didn’t change.

“You expected me not too, after Wanda came to us about your ‘happy memory’ of choice?” Pepper insisted.

“I didn’t choose that mem-” Natasha began to protest,

“It was a sort of long conversation, and did you think Maria didn’t hide some sort of camera somewhere in your room at Barton’s?” Pepper asked snootily as to her sources. Natasha looked at Maria, who shrugged.

“I had to make sure nothing unsavory happened.” Natasha hit her hard on the shoulder, effectively shutting her up. Agent Hill rubbed her arm, and continued to look unyieldingly at her.

“All accusations aside, we need to talk about the present situation, how can we help?!” Pepper squealed.

“You think I need help.” At this, Maria and Pepper looked at each other, and both burst into fits of giggles.

“NEED help?!” Maria screeched, “you know nothing about this stuff!”

“ _ You _ do?” Tasha retorted.

“You don’t know all about my love life, Romanoff.”

“Been having an affair with Coulson?”

“Both of you shut up, we need to focus on helping Nat.” Wanda said loudly, her Russian accent asserting a form of authority, and domination over the pair of them. Natasha rolled her eyes.

“For the last time, I do not need  _ help _ .” Maria and Pepper laughed even louder now, and Tasha shot them one of the withering-death-glares she was famous for. They immediately shut up.

“You need more help than you know.” Pepper shook her head. Natasha resigned to their insesent suggestions about her very complicated love life, and stared at the ceiling. She knew she was in for a very long afternoon of talking about a very uncomfortable subject.


	17. AO3 crashed while I was uploading this one and I think it's a sign from God

After the entire hour of listening to Pepper and Maria giving ‘suggestions’ as to her ‘relationship’, there was only one thing that had tipped her to leaving them choking in a smoke bomb. 

“Natasha, we all see Bruce’s efforts to please you, and how you always give him a smile instead of a sarcastic smirk.” Wanda said suddenly. "You  _ are _ heartbroken, I can see it on your face without looking inside your head, you-“

“Heartbreak, you see heartbreak on my face. The face of an assassin, of a spy, and you see love.” Natasha cut her off. “I am a spy, love is trivial, and you see desolation?”

“I saw what you saw back at Clint’s, I am sorry Natasha, but yes, that is what I see, even without my magic. I see that after he left, you secluded yourself for two weeks without letting anyone to see you, I saw that even after you emerged you were never quite the same. It didn’t take my powers to see something was wrong, and all the evidence leads to that” Wanda insisted. Natasha was disgusted and shocked that Wanda would bring that up, but it had happened, and she had had enough. After that, Tasha had firmly decided to leave the conversation behind them, and fingered a smoke bomb resting in her pocket. She had taken the bomb from her bag, and dropped it silently on the bed next to her before exiting the room. Her sock-clad foot hit something hard and moving.

“Hey! Watch it!” Came a grumpy and sarcastic male voice knelt in front of Tasha’s door. Natasha stepped over him, and looked down at the intruder. There huddled Tony, his ear to a small device in the crack of the door.

“Tony.”

“Red.” He stood, and faced her, not so inconspicuously removing the mechanism from the frame.

“What is that?” She asked.

“Just a little thing I’ve been working on.” Tasha held out her hand for him to give her the small sphere. He stared at it. She looked him in the eyes, and gave him a look. He grimaced, and placed the tiny object in her outstretched fingers. She examined it carefully. Tasha raised her eyes to his, and as inconspicuously as Tony had taken the device from the doorframe, she pulled her hand back, and punched him in the nose nearly as hard as she had hit Bruce. He dropped the metallic apparatus to the floor, and grabbed his face. Blood dripped down his chin, down to his neck. “What was that for?!” Tony yelled. Without response, she bent to retrieve Tony’s device. She lifted it to her eye level, and searched it for any sign that it had a recording button, and found a small ridge of metal on it. She tweaked it. A small blue holographic image of Pepper, Maria, Wanda and herself sitting on the bed talking appeared, their conversation playing.

“-never quite the same” came Wanda’s voice. She saw her small hologram-self leaving a smoke bomb behind her, and approaching the door before it flickered out.

“You heard everything?” She asked, her green eyes flashing dangerously. Tony looked afraid, and with good reason, if her eyes ever flashed, she was either very angry, or very nervous. Neither was a largely common emotion she showed, but when they appeared, everyone knew to steer clear.

“Everything.” His arrogant smile returning. “You  _ have _ got a thing for Mr. Agitatable.” Natasha rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms.

“You do have a lovely personality, Tony, but for what species I’m not sure.” 

“I thought you knew everything, Ms. I-Speak-Dead-Languages.” He laughed, and plucked the device out of her hand. He started to swagger down the hallway, but Natasha was on him. She wrangled his knees, and flipped him over her back like she had done to Maria, and had soon wrestled the recorder from his fingers. She stood, and casually threw it against the wall, where it shattered, little bits of metal flying in Tony’s hair.

“Do you know how long it took to create that?!” He moaned.

“Ten minutes?” She guessed, raising an eyebrow.

“About that.” He smirked

“Lovely, now five minutes should cover it.” Tasha smiled angelically. “If you’ll excuse me, never speak of this unless you would like to find your lab in worse condition than you recently left it”.

And with that, she continued her search of Bruce. She needed to finally confront him about the note. She hadn’t really been paying attention during Pepper and Maria’s chatter, but they had said something about her having to “absolutely  _ must _ ” accept his invitation. She decided she would, after much thought on the subject. The spy already knew what she was going to say from years of experience preparing for investigations. She would tell him she’d gotten his note, and that she had decided to accept his invitation. She was firmly resolved to the fact that she would not let this turn into another  _ moment,  _ and that she would walk out from wherever she was going. She searched through Stark Tower for ten minutes before asking JARVIS where she would find the scientist. He directed her to the kitchen, which rather surprised her, but she heeded his advice. As JARVIS had said, Tasha found Bruce sitting on a stool biting into an apple, juice running down his chin.

“Nice to see you too.” She said. Bruce dropped his apple, and spun around to look at her.

“Hello N-Natasha.” He blushed, and stooped to pick up the apple. He threw it away, and exited the kitchen. They stood there in silence as Natasha forgot all that she had planned to say from nervousness. This was never the case, as Tasha never got nervous, but when she had to say this sort of thing it was usually for a mission, in which it didn’t really matter the outcome of an outing as long as she finished it.

“I’ve been considering your invitation, and I’ve decided to say....yes.” She choked out. A smile grew on his face, a not very common appearance. It was about as often as Natasha showing anxiousness that Bruce showed happiness, rare, but happened in certain situations.

“Saturday, eleven thirty?” He asked hesitantly. She nodded, and felt her cheeks grow hot at the thought of an actual.....well, it was a date. She wondered if the Insiders Troupe had left her room, this was actually something she was considering telling them. 


	18. Definitely orphaning this

Whenever Natasha pictured what might have happened if she had never become an assassin, this was not what she thought of. She stood in front of her mirror while Pepper and Maria fussed over her hair, adjusting her black turtle-neck every now and then, complaining over the fact that Tasha had stubbornly decided on bringing two electric disks and a gun.

“Would you two stop already?” She groaned, “It’s just lunch, not a prom.”

“You know full well this is more than lunch, Nat.” Pepper insisted, her head appearing in the mirror from out from behind Natasha’s. She had cut her hair since Clint’s funeral, but it was still down to her shoulders, and easily doable. Pepper had replicated her own usual low workday bun, pulling every strand of Tasha’s mess of curls into it.

“You look ready for anything Natasha.” Maria said, giving her a wink. 

“Again, it’s  _ lunch,  _ not a  _ proposal. _ ”

“Never say never.” Pepper nodded solemnly. Natasha rolled her eyes, but stayed silent as Pepper yanked a stray hair into the bun. “Now get out there.” She said, shoving her out her bedroom door. Tasha pulled a hair from the bun that was pulling her scalp off, and let it dangle loose next to her face. Pepper and Maria had selected after much arguing, simple black pearl earrings that matched her turtle-neck, and no other jewelry. 

The spy entered the elevator and pressed the button to find it malfunctioning. She cursed under her breath, and opened the door that lead to the stairs. They curled downwards for ten floors below her, spiralling into a pattern that resembled a snail’s shell. She stepped onto the first one, and made her way down the staircase. With every step, her stomach twisted even more furiously, and a new reason to be anxious popped into her head.  _ What if we get attacked?  _ One step.  _ What if I say something wrong?  _ Another step.  _ What if he’s faking, like all the rest?  _ These thoughts penetrated her shroud like needles through silk until she reached the bottom floor. Of course, she had no reason to catch her breath, being her, and she pushed open the glass door of the Stark Tower lobby. 

She felt very odd in her chosen outfit, (courtesy of Pepper and Maria) being used to either her fighting gear, or a hoodie. Thankfully, she had worn jeans under her woolen turtle-neck, and was comforted by the familiar feel of the denim. Tasha stuck her hands in her pockets, and walked onto the stone floor of the lobby.

Natasha found Bruce waiting nervously for her, wearing an untucked button-up shirt, and jeans. His cheeks reddened at the sight of her, whether from anxiety or her appearance was not clear; though she guessed a bit of both. She was used to men being taken with her looks, but he always seemed to be genuine, noticing small details, like the delicate point of her chin, the determined set of her jaw, or the way her temples raised and fell when she tightened her expression.

“Should we go then..?” He asked apprehensively.

“Sure.” She shrugged. Unsure of what else to say, she opened the door of the tower, feeling the crisp eleven-o'clock air against her face. She liked New York, one reason for having set seasons. Hot during the Summer, cold during the Winter, it was one way or the other, hardly ever questionable of which would be the day’s weather. 

She almost stumbled out into the chill, for Bruce had opened the door from behind. Tasha ducked under his arm, and into the bustle of the New York city morning. The ever-constant honking of taxis, and the smell of gasoline was almost welcome after mostly dry desert and inside air for the last two weeks, since Steve and Thor had insisted upon no one leaving the Tower until Bruce had wheedled them into letting him and Tasha out for once. He held out his arm, and she regarded it uncertainly, having never been offered a gesture like this for reasons other than undercover. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she took it with a small smile, looping her arm through his. He looked mildly surprised, and the duo started down the street at a fair pace, earning a few looks from passerby. They immediately lowered their heads upon noticing the look on Natasha’s face forbidding them from staring.

A small sign hung from the door of a tiny restaurant hidden between two large stores in Time Square reading ‘OPEN: hours Saturday 10:00am-9:00pm’. The assassin and the scientist approached the restaurant at a quick pace due to Bruce’s lack of protection from the cold (he had forgotten to check the weather, probably being caught up in other preparations). As they came closer, Natasha’s eyes were able to see small lines of cracks in the glass door, holes in the wooden frame. The imperfections became more and more pronounced the closer they got to the restaurant. Soon enough, they were standing in front of the establishment, and the blemishes all over it were obvious. Bruce pulled the door open with a squeak, and they stepped inside. Terrible eighties music played quietly from not-so-hidden speakers in the corners of the place, the tables plastic and sinking slightly, all of them with sticky stains on the tacky red varnish. The floor was tiled red and white like a fast-food restaurant, a small fan spun slowly on the ceiling. A counter was pushed to the back wall, it too red and shiny, also coated in stains. 

Bruce turned beet-red, and looked at Tasha. She was surprised, the had place looked much cleaner, and more inviting from the outside. From the street, it had resembled a nice little cafe’ that entrepreneurs could work in while sipping overpriced coffee. From in the inside, however, it looked like a dingy and run-down McDonald's from not-to-recent years. Natasha was also taken aback that Bruce would dream of taking her here, and she was not a picky or snobbish person at all. Tasha guessed that he really didn’t see enough in her to take her somewhere better than a seedy outlet anyway, as none had. He  _ said  _ he had loved her, and she almost him, but she was used to being lied to.

“I-I-I don’t understand.” he stuttered, “I called a week ago, and they said they were a comfortable joint that served custom food, and had a welcoming atmosphere.”

“Well, the second part was probably not a lie.” She hazarded.

“Probably not...I had been hoping the welcoming atmosphere would be more than a gum-chewing waitress.” They both turned on their heels as the gum-chewing waitress in a plastic apron started to come towards them, a spiral-bound notepad dangling from one finger.

Once they reached the chilly city streets, Bruce and Natasha stood facing each other in the cold wind of New York. 

“I’m sor-” he started to apologize,

“No, it’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known.” Of course there were ways he could’ve found out, such as scouting the place himself, or looking up more than just the place’s hours, but Bruce was new to this sort of thing, and Tasha would let him figure it out. They would both figure it out. The assassin was only familiar with these relationship things because of missions. Missions where she would be forced to pretend to be either Clint’s, or her target’s date for events where she would strike, and complete the objective. Neither situation was an actual  _ date,  _ as Clint was her best friend, and the other was merely for greasing her target into telling her things. Either way, Natasha had never been on a genuine date, and she was willing to give it another try.

“Well, I’m serious about trying to get at least one date out you, Ms. Romanoff.” He smirked.

“Is that so?” She smiled. It was a real smile too, since she was unused to this feeling they both felt; and what one would do to keep it. 

“I always have a backup plan, so  _ next  _ Saturday we’ll go out to a place that will definitely not let us down.” He announced. “This time it’s a surprise, I’ll come get you at your room.” The scientist said proudly. “Let’s just say, you’ll know when it’s me, and not Pepper, or Maria, or Wanda.” With that, he stuck his elbow out for her to take, and they made their way back to Stark Tower, leaving Natasha curious as to Bruce’s new scheme.


	19. Sweet Lord I still have ten chapters to upload

After a mission, two days after the failed date, Natasha collapsed on her bed, jumpsuit-clad, and weary. She took a deep breath, and sat up, glancing at the blinking red numbers on her clock: 2:00am. The spy dumped her weapons into her over-stuffed closet, and sat back down. Out of the corner of her tired eye, she saw a small slip of paper on her wooden nightstand.

“Ugh.” She moaned, and stretched over to grab it. Come in costume - B it read in Bruce’s sloppy writing. She blinked her tired eyes. Come in costume? It must have been for their second chance date, he had said it was on Halloween after all. She would ponder it in the morning. Tasha shut her eyes fully clothed, and fell into an exhausted sleep.

She woke up eight hours later, the sounds of birds resonating again in her ears. The paper, she found, was still clenched in her hand. Natasha looked back at it, and re-read it twice. Bruce was not kidding about the second try, he was actually going through with it. It was not something her extremely drained brain had hallucinated. Tasha re-read it one more time, and reached for her phone in her belt. She dialed Pepper’s number, too tired to get up and get her herself, and told her about the note. There was no use hiding it, she always found out anyway in her magical, Pepper-y ways.

“What, it’s seven, Nat.” She said irksomely.

“Come to my room.”

“Why?” Pepper complained. Tasha sighed, there was no other way to do this.

“New development.” She murmured.

“Oh my, yes! Hold on!” Pepper shrieked. Not five minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and it opened before Natasha could even reach it. Pepper was standing there with a very disgruntled Agent Hill at her side. Of course, Pepper’s hair was perfectly straight, and Maria’s was everywhere, even though it was much shorter.

“Can you at least tell me why you dragged me here at seven in the morning, Pepper?” Maria groaned, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“New development, according to Nat.” Pepper said way too cheerfully for how early it was.

“Lovely.” Agent Hill grunted. Tasha ran her hands through her viciously tangled curls, yanking at them exasperatedly.

“I knew I should’ve waited until your morning mood had died down.” She was half talking to both of them, as Pepper was way to happy, and Maria was the human embodiment of grumpy cat in the morning. Tasha let them into her room, and they sat down, Pepper next to Natasha on the bed, Maria collapsing the floor melodramatically. Natasha wordlessly handed Pepper the note, who gave it a once-over, and gave it to Maria.

“Come in costume...?” She asked tiredly.

“I told you Bruce said he wanted to try again, this must be his new idea.” The assassin explained. Maria brightened at this, and lifted her head, stealing a brush that Natasha hardly ever used from her table. “Do you have any intel?” she asked Pepper. Pepper laughed.

“You  _ know  _ half the fun is being surprised, Nat.” Tasha stared at her blankly.

“Not for me.” She responded. “Now I know you know something, give me something.” Pepper and Maria looked at each other.

“No.” Pepper asserted defiantly.

“You’re not good at lying, Pepper.”

“Anyway, we need to get you a costume.” Maria interjected, tilting her eyebrows towards the note.

“Maria, it’s seven fifteen in the morning, places won’t be open until at least ten thirty.” Tasha rolled her eyes.

“There’s this magical thing called the internet, you know.” Pepper responded.

“Fine.” Natasha pulled her laptop out of a bag at the foot of her bed, and opened it. The illuminated screen was blinding in the early morning hours, and Maria groped for the brightness button, turning it way down. Pepper squinted, and turned it back halfway up. Natasha quickly typed in the Amazon url, and searched up “functional costumes for women”.

“My eyes!” Maria screeched, upon seeing some dangerously short nurse outfits. She climbed onto the bed behind Pepper, and scrolled down franticly.

“Child.” Pepper scorned, pinching the agent on the arm. Maria swatted her hand away, and kept staring at the screen.

“How about that one?” She said playfully, pointing to an alarmingly reckless witch costume, which had a FREE BROOM BUY ONE GET ONE HALF OFF!

“You wish.” Tasha scoffed. She continued to scan the Amazon page for a costume she thought would work for her, as movability was a necessity for the paranoid assassin.

“Wait, stop.” Pepper said. “What about that one?” She used the mouse to point to an orange jumpsuit in the middle of the screen. She leaned over Natasha, and clicked on it, revealing a fox playsuit complete with a tail and ears.

“You can’t be serious.” Tasha groaned, turning to her fox-haired friend. Maria burst out laughing in Natasha’s ear.

“Yes Pepper, amazing choice” She howled. Natasha hit her with a pillow, and pushed her away, leaving Maria to fall over laughing onto the mattress.

“I don’t think that would be my ideal wakeup call, Maria.” Tasha said, looking back at the screen. “And I also think Tony will kick you out of the tower if you wake him up like that.”

“Most likely.”

“You know, it’s growing on me.” Tasha said sarcastically, nudging Maria’s laughing form with her foot.

“Watch it!” It was too late. Maria fell head-first onto the carpeted floor, slippers over rear-end. Pepper and Tasha ignored their now fully-awake friend, and continued to stare at the laptop screen.

“Haha Nat, it was a suggestion, it would clash terribly with your hair anyway.” Pepper snarked.

“I was thinking this, maybe?” Natasha clicked on a ninja costume that she had seen earlier, it was looked comfortable, not too over the top, and she could actually move in it. The leggings were just printed with a wrapping design so she wouldn’t have to wrap herself in black toilet paper like a goth mummy, and the long-sleeved top was the same. She had plenty of black utility belts to use, and it came with a mask.

“You know, it’s not bad.” Maria decided, clambering back onto the bed, hitting Tasha in the head with her slipper. 

“Only you Natasha, only you.” Pepper shook her head.

“What, it’s not  _ that  _ bad, and I can  _ move  _ in it, unlike that impossible baggy jumpsuit. And I’m not a fashion critic.” Tasha answered.

“Well, you might have to get rid of the mask.” Pepper smirked.

“Should I even ask?”

“He may want to actually see your face.” Tasha kept her silence, thinking Pepper would say he might want to  _ kiss  _ her, a possibility that was not completely out of the question for him. He  _ was  _ a huge dork, leave it to him to try and kiss her on a makeup date. She would make him wait if he tried.

“Fine, I’ll ditch the mask, but I’m strapping my short-sword to my back, and a dagger to my leg, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Pepper rolled her eyes.


	20. I think I spent all of my divinely allocated motivation on this fanfic

On Halloween, at six pm, Natasha was rushing around her room like a fire-haired bee, rapidly tugging on her costume. Pepper had insisted on getting two day delivery, and she had dragged Maria to Tasha’s room so she could try it on right after it came. After much protesting, Natasha had pulled on the simple black shirt and leggings, and a utility belt to show them. They had loved it, and Tasha had to admit she looked great. She pulled on the leggings, hopping on one foot to where she stashed her belt under her bed. It glinted in the evening light streaming through the full-length windows, reflecting off the metal buckle shaped in the red hour glass that was her symbol. She strapped it around her slim waist, and grabbed the shoulder strap that held her short-sword, looping it over her head. The flat side of the blade hit her back, as she attached the holder that would soon sheath her silver dagger. Natasha grabbed the dagger from where she kept it under her pillow, and slipped it into the holder.

Halfway through pulling her hair into a loose braid, the lights flickered suddenly, the shades dropping slowly down to cover the window. Tasha wearily unsheathed the dagger again, and stood perfectly still, the braid steadily unwinding.

“M-M-Ms. Roman-n-n--n-noff.” came JARVIS’s voice, but much more static than his usual professional accent. She stayed silent. “Op-p-p-pen your d-d-door.” His voice then dropped, and Tasha sensed he had shut off. Being her, she of course didn’t open the door. The knob rattled once, then twice, her eyes darting to it suspiciously.

“Who is it? Bruce?” She whispered firmly. The assassin crept cautiously towards the still rattling door, ready to swipe knees, or snap a neck. She gripped the doorknob, stopping it’s rattling. 

A sharp intake of breath stopped her from wanting to murder whoever was on the other side, as she now had a good idea of who it was. Dork. She rolled her eyes, and grabbed the unraveling braid, re-braiding it swiftly. She opened the door, and a very confused Bruce came tripping through.

“Nice try, points for being original though.” She rolled her eyes, and helped the nerdy scientist off the floor.

“ _ I  _ thought I did ok.” He complained.

“You did fine.” Tasha allowed. “The JARVIS thing was clever, now where are we going dressed like this?” She spotted his costume. Of course, as the tragic dork he was, Bruce was dressed as Frankenstein. He wore his lab coat, but he had ripped the edges, and placed two metallic bolts on either side of his neck. His forehead was painted hastily green, staining the edges of his hair as well as the skin of his neck.

“Nice costume, are those swords real?” he said, eyeing her weapons.

“Did you expect anything less?” She raised an eyebrow, tugging down on the shirt to cover the dagger. She gestured out the door. “Should we go to wherever we’re going?”

“Right, yeah.” Bruce nodded, offering his arm again. She raised both eyebrows now, and he lowered his elbow.

“A ninja and a Frankenstein are a bit of an odd pairing.” Tasha pointed out. “So are you going to finally tell me where we’re going, or am I going to have to use the dagger?” He exhaled nervously, glancing at the shining knife on her thigh.

“No.” he said resiliently.

“That was dangerous, Banner.” they walked in silence to the Stark Tower lobby, finding that Tony, or whoever had fixed the elevator. Once they reached the garage, she made straight for her car, but Bruce steared her away, to a bigger surprise than his method of getting her there. “You got a car.” Tasha pointed out, looking up at her Frankenstein. He smiled anxiously down at her.

“You like it?” Parked in front of them, was a spotlessly clean silver two seater convertible BMW. She walked over to it, and ran her hands over the sleek exterior, peering inside. The black leather seats were begging to be used. Tasha looked at Bruce, asking silently if she could get in. He nodded, his smile widening into a huge grin. She opened the door, and climbed into it, feeling the soft seats that perfectly matched her costume, as if he had known about it. 

After a short ten minute drive in the cool New York air, Bruce stopped the car at their secret location, slipping his hands over Natasha’s eyes. She reluctantly let him keep them there, feeling blindly for the door handle. She gripped the metal, and opened the door, stepping out onto the concrete, hearing the traffic, the people talking on the sidewalks and streets.

“So it’s a surprise until we get into the building.” She laughed.

“Yes.” He said, not removing his fingers from her eyelids.

“I am really holding back from flipping you onto the sidewalk, you know.”

“I’m honored.” They walked slowly and carefully through the crowds swarming around them, avoiding crashing into dogs and owners on the streets. Tasha heard the woosh of a spinning door, and warmth hit her like a truck, but comfortingly, like a truck full of pillows.

“I’ve had enough.” She raised her hands to her face, and plucked each one of Bruce’s fingers from her eyes, revealing a fancy lobby thronged with people in costumes of all kinds. The marble entryway was familiar, she felt she had been there before. “We’re in the Empire State Building, aren’t we.” she smirked.

“Yes, that was fast.” He grinned.

“I’ve been here on missions before.”

“I figured, so you should go here for another purpose than a mission.” Bruce said. He wove his fingers through hers, and pulled her towards the front desk. The man behind the desk looked up from his work expectantly.

“Dr. Banner, yes, your spot is reserved, top floor, number three.” Bruce nodded, and looked at Tasha. She stayed silent, knowing he wouldn’t answer any of her questions.

“Lead on.” She nodded. He pulled her over to the elevator, his fingers still twined with hers.

“Stairs are overrated.” He groaned, as she attempted to yank him in the stairs’ direction.

“Wuss.” Tasha twisted the corner of her mouth, and lead him back to the elevator. He pushed the button, and they stood waiting for it, only really realizing their hands were still gripping each others’. They both looked down at their laced fingers, Bruce blushing profusely, her barely keeping her face pale. 

They stepped into the elevator in silence, watching the lit up buttons indicate as they passed the floors, getting closer and closer to whatever Bruce had planned; and Tasha was itching to find out. The elevator dinged unexpectedly, stopping at the thirtieth floor to admit a portly elderly couple clutching each other's’ arms dressed in possibly the cheesiest couples costume ever. The woman was in a red spotted dress and black ears, clutching her husband’s arm, who was wearing red shorts and a black shirt with matching ears. The woman shriveled her nose at them.

“Kids these days.” She griped. Tasha easily ignored her, but Bruce looked down at her nervously.

“I apologize Ma’am.” he said kindly. She snorted, and pushed their button.

“Not you, your lady friend.” She looked pointedly at Natasha, eyeing the tightness of her shirt around the hip area where she had pulled it down to hide the knife. There was really nothing wrong with her outfit, it was just a little form-fitting, she was used to that. Tasha continued to ignore her, and pretended to stare at the lights marking their progress through the building’s many floors. Her husband nudged her and whispered in her ear. She laughed, and looked at Natasha’s sword poking out from behind her back.

“Is it real?” She asked obliviously. Natasha was now seriously considering showing the woman how real it was, and introducing her to the concealed one, but she held herself back, keeping her face straight with a small and polite smile.

“Yes, Ma’am.” She said instead. The woman gave a small squeak of fear, and hit the button of the next floor they were approaching, to easily exit Bruce and Natasha’s seemingly intimidating presence. The elevator dinged, and let the couple out while the man tried to console his wife.

“That was something.” Bruce specified. Natasha didn’t respond. She was still figuring out exactly  _ what  _ it was. They stayed quiet until they reached the hundred and second floor. 

The doors slid open, and they stepped onto the terrace, crowded with tourists and locals alike. Kids clad in princess costumes ran around the small area while their parents chased them down frantically. Teenagers with their friends dressed in audacious animal costumes stood chattering near the edges. To Natasha’s dismay, couples wearing matching costumes like the man and women they had seen earlier stood either holding hands or staring at each other with absurdly sappy looks right in the middle of the deck. Bruce steared her away, and into the inside portion of the floor, where tables and a small bar and kitchen were there for a dinner by the view.

“Banner.” He said to the woman at the stand. She acknowledged them, and smiled, leading them through the closely divided tables.

“Right this way.” She good-naturedly waved to a table up against the window, showing the view of the city below. The buildings hundreds of feet below glinted in the fading sun, the light shone off of the glass panes on the roofs in colors of every variety of scarlet, gold, and pink against the darkening sky. The woman kindly ignored the sword strapped to her back, and handed them menus. Bruce pulled out her chair for her, and she sat down as placidly as the sword would allow.

“What a gentleman.” she nodded. He turned cherry-red, and sat down in his own chair. The couple only two tables to their left quickly hid their faces behind menus, but Natasha caught a glimpse of a familiar black goatee, and perfectly straight strawberry blonde hair. She shook herself, and picked up the menu in the middle of the table. They scanned the menus together in silence as the various couples scattered across the room conversed animatedly. Bruce cleared his throat, and looked over his menu. He lifted a shaking hand, and lowered hers, fiddling with his napkin.

“Tasha?” he said.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been..... noticing...... people like Tony and Pepper, how they make no effort to hide.” What was he saying? Did he want to be more social about their relationship? He ought to have known she wasn’t that sort of person, and she thought he wasn’t either. “I was....um.... _ hoping _ ......we could have the same thing.”

“What do you mean?” She knew perfectly well, but she wanted to hear him say it.

“I mean I think that maybe we could start acting like a normal couple?” The scientist rubbed the back of his neck, cursing as the green paint came away onto his knuckles. 

“How do you expect  _ us  _ to act like a normal couple?” Natasha asked skeptically. He looked relieved she hadn’t pushed away, and surprised that she had called them a couple. Both were acceptable. Bruce looked into her eyes, and placed his hand on her cheek.

“Like this.” And before she could react, his lips were on hers, and she was melting into it, putting her arms around his neck over the table. She was amazed he would have the courage to kiss her in public, and she took advantage of it. It was a sweet and unintentional kiss, but it pulled every fiber of both of their beings into it in the best way. The two times they had kissed before flooded into her brain, and filled her up with warmth, bathing her in sensation of floating away, but being anchored to Earth by Bruce, and his affection. The sounds of clapping and whistling from the other couples filled her ears, and she couldn’t stop her face from burning bright crimson.

“This is fun.” came a voice to her left. They jerked apart, and looked up at the onlooker. 


	21. Why is Natasha so violent in this, what is happening

Natasha and Bruce looked up, and of course, there stood Tony, with possibly the most smug grin he had ever bore. And next to him, just as foreseen, was Pepper, her hands clasped in front of her satisfied and hysterical face. Tears glimmered in her eyes with happiness.

“Pepper.” Tasha nodded, her cheeks still scarlet. Pepper dropped her hands from her mouth, and let a few happy tears fall.

“Natasha.....” she said, so filled with sappy intent that Natasha was surprised that she had not blown up from the mushy thoughts probably whirring through her brain.

“How much did you tell him?” Tasha asked, firmly. Pepper’s face fell.

“Enough.” she regained her composure, and straightened.

“And you?” the assassin swiveled to Tony. His smirk had not left his face, but he was focused on Bruce; whose features were even more crimson than hers. Including her hair. Tasha gave him the same look she had given him years previously when insinuating she wanted him out of the boxing ring before she had completely destroyed his head of security in boxing.

“Enough.” he mimicked Pepper. She slapped him impatiently.

“Go on and tell her.”

“Fine, but if Red brutally murders me-”

“Than it’ll be your own fault for spilling, shell-head.” Tasha said coolly, turning her expression to a glare. Tony dramatically rolled his eyes.

“All I told him was your Witchy-power-vision of choice, and what you did when he left.” The philanthropist shrugged. Natasha was holding back pretty much a growl at this point.

“I did warn you.” she said calmly, standing up. She pushed her chair in, and stood one foot from Tony’s face. Pepper, Bruce, and all the other couples, who had stopped gazing into each other’s eyes long enough to watch turned to see the action. The spy just scowled at Tony until he started to shift from foot to foot, still looking at her.

“Natasha, what are you...” Bruce began to rise from his chair. He reached for her shoulder, but before he could reach her, Tasha grabbed Tony’s forearm quickly with one hand, and his hand between four fingers.

“Natasha-” Tony mused, and started to try and pull his arm from her grasp. Natasha stared him straight in the eyes, and snapped his wrist, putting all of her indignation, and all of her temper into it. She made it as painful as she knew how to, which was quite painful. The bone cracked under her fingers, and she withdrew her hands, gesturing to Bruce.

“Would you like to go?” she asked politely.

“Tasha....” he said nervously, looking down at her hands. The hands that had just rifted his best friend’s wrist. Tasha knew she should find other ways to express her rage than breaking noses and snapping wrists, but that was a problem for another day. She looked up at him, and tried to ignore the couples staring at her in disgust and fear. This was what she was used to, and what she was trained for: the normal people to think of her as abnormal, and dangerous, and she used to be more comfortable with that. She wished she still was. 

As Bruce and Natasha stood in the elevator in silence after they left a very shocked Pepper, and a very in pain Tony to cradle his wrist, he would look at her apprehensively. She attempted to avoid the current situation by staring at the blinking buttons on the wall. It didn’t work. Her mind kept drifting to the horrible noise that she had made cracking Tony’s wrist. She tried to convince herself that she was angry because Tony and Pepper had told Bruce all that she wanted to keep hidden, but knew somewhere it was because they had been interrupted.


	22. You ever have those days where you think, "this might as well happen"

The first thing Natasha heard after being abruptly awoken much earlier than she had hoped, was loud, vicious, and fluent swearing in several different languages. She jerked upright, leaping up from her bed. Whoever had the guts to wake up Natasha Romanoff before she wanted to be woken up had some serious vista, and had to have a good reason. The interrupted date the previous night had ended with the snapping of her teammate’s wrist, and a very awkward car ride back to the tower, and Tasha had no hopes of waking up early after that. The assassin crept slowly, barefoot to her door, curling her fist around the pistol she kept under her pillow. She jumped back, as something that must have been either very heavy, or very furious slammed into the opposite side of the door, shattering clamorously. This, followed by more furious cursing, peaked Natasha’s curiosity. She cautiously opened the door, tightening her grip on the pistol. What she saw, she had to blink a few times to believe, though she guessed she should be used to this by now.

“HOW DARE YOU RETURN NOW, AFTER WE ALL THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!” shrieked Wanda, another breakneck vase was flung from her hand. The target, Natasha saw, was someone who everyone indeed thought was dead, and was now too fast to see, dodging the high-velocity glasses being launched at his face. The figure slowed down, and stood in the hallway surrounded by shards of glass embedded in the carpet, staring tiredly at Wanda. Pietro Maximoff stood motionless in the hallway, gaping at his raging twin.

“I am sorry, I am sorry I did not call sooner, but I was too busy being regenerated by the cradle.” he held up his hands in protection of himself, as Wanda raised another vase, ready to hurl it at his face. Her chest heaved rapidly, as she slowly lowered her hand. Tears begun to form in her eyes, her face dropping into complete desolation. She let the vase slip from her fingers, falling softly onto the carpet. She collapsed into tears, sinking to the floor, ignoring Natasha standing in her doorway watching. Her brother didn’t seem to have noticed the spy either, and he wordlessly walked over to her, and sank to her side, wrapping his arms around her shaking form. He whispered words in Russian into her ear, calming her rattled brain.

Natasha knew not to interfere, but it was difficult. She had been woken at six in the morning, and a teammate she had assumed and was  _ pre _ sumed dead appeared in the Stark Tower lobby. She herself had only ever had two moments like this, and none nearly this touchy-feely. When Fury came back as if from the dead during the battle taking down Hydra, and when Bruce had returned. Even though she knew better, she had to say something.

“Maximoff.” said the spy, nodding at the huddled pile of Maximoffs. Pietro and Wanda looked up, as if they really hadn’t noticed she was there.

“Natasha.” Wanda stood, wiping her eyes, and pulling her brother up with her.

“Agent Romanov.” Pietro’s accent mangled the ‘f’s in her name, reverting it to it’s original form she prefered not to use. Tasha brushed it off, and focused on the present situation. She folded her arms, and ignored the fact that she was still wearing her costume from the night before. She had taken off the sword and dagger, but she had not had the energy to remove her costume. She felt a rush of gratefulness that she had not succumbed to Pepper’s wanting her to wear an orange jumpsuit, and at least she was wearing black. Her hair was still perfect in it’s braid, as it always was, falling alongside her face.

“How’d  _ you _ rejoin the land of the living?” she asked. First it was Pepper, falling from the huge structure two hundred feet, but surviving, then it was Fury, who had also never really died, and Steve’s friend returning after falling off a moving train. Many people had “died” but not really, and Natasha was almost starting to hope people would stop returning from the dead so that she could focus on the current chitauri-invasion-problem at hand.

“Doctor Cho’s cradle.” he shrugged. “it filled in the bullet holes.” Helen was definitely correct then, her invention would be leaving Tony’s suits in the dust in the not-to-far future. Natasha nodded, and looked to Wanda.

“Avoid chucking vases at his head? Tony  _ will _ kick you out, he’s probably already considering showing me the door.” Wanda chuckled, and repeated the nod, looking up at her brother, and giving him a huge hug.

“Good to have you back, Pietro.” she said, burying her face in his shoulder. He stroked her hair, and hugged her back, staring at the floor.

Since they had Quicksilver back, it would be a helpful next step to get him trained for the Avengers program. Steve and the others would have a field day, not to mention the press. Natasha and Wanda were in for a rough next few weeks.


	23. Can we Amazon Prime order 12 year old me a hug please

"He's  _ what? _ " said Steve. The rest of the Avengers, new and old all burst into anarchy at the news of the return of their supposed deceased teammate. Natasha and Wanda stood at the front of the living room, their teammates draped over every inch of the couch, some more gracefully than others. Thankfully, Tony was on his fifth glass of scotch, and his remaining soberness was rapidly dwindling. Sam had joined him, and they had been trying to out-drink each other when Tasha had walked in. Both were leaning against each other, trash-talking drunkenly, ignoring the commotion around them. Pepper sat next to Tony, smacking him when he would say something particularly vulgar, but all her attention was focused on Wanda's shrinking form. Thor was still in shock, but his booming voice could be heard yelling suggestions. Vision was trying to speak comforting words to Wanda, but she would duck away from him, and slip into the hallway. Roadey was dumbstruck, murmuring ideas, and eyeing Tony, sitting on the  _ arm _ of the couch for no apparent reason.

"I told you Rogers, Pietro Maximoff is back from the dead, and he's standing in the hallway. I didn't want to make the entire room erupt into bigger chaos than it is by dragging him in here." Tasha folded her arms, and scowled, using her 'shut up' look to the best of her ability. Steve closed his mouth, glancing at Wanda's retreating form. A very silent, and very confused Bruce was tugging at her concentration, hunkered near the end of the couch scowling at the floor.

"You wanna deal with her?" Steve asked. She snorted.

"No way, she's probably going to her brother, and it's not smart to get between them, believe me." she insisted. "They're very protective, especially roadrunner."

"True." He nodded. "I still think someone should check on them." Natasha agreed, but Wanda's brother had just returned from her thinking him dead, and the situation was similar to when Bruce came back. The thought that he might have been dead had crept into her thoughts multiple times, as much as she hated to admit it, and had tried to block it. She wanted to be alone during those times. It was only fair to sympathize.

" _ No _ ." she said sternly. He knew better than to contradict her when she was set on something, so he wisely didn't respond. He instead rolled his eyes, and walked over to Tony and Sam to tell him off, and ask about shell-head's over-wrapped hand. "Don't ask about his wrist." Tasha whispered to Steve. He froze, then nodded slowly.

"Hey, Tasha." came a voice from behind her. She turned around, and saw Bruce sitting where he had been the entire time looking up at her, the same way he had when she was discussing plans of getting Tony back; but this time was entirely different. This time, instead of worry radiating from him, it was confusion, and also a thousand questions relating to at least ten different subjects.

"Hi." Tasha responded. She was very unsure of how to tread around him, the last time being when she snapped his friend's wrist, and abruptly cut off their second chance date. The whole situation seemed a lot worse now, even after only thirteen hours. Bruce had taken her to a fancy place after a first attempt date had failed to compensate for a mishap, and rented a sleek car to impress her. She had in turn broken his fellow scientist's wrist; and tromped standoffishly out of the restaurant, publicly embarrassing them both when they had almost made it to a normal relationship status.

"How are the Maximoffs doing?" he asked, standing up to face her. He seemed to be dodging the subject of the previous night, which Natasha greatly appreciated. He was very easy to read though, and he was obviously very curious about their relationship status, and how they stood with Tony and Pepper.

"Fine, I woke up this morning to Wanda chucking vases at speedy's face, but otherwise fine." she smirked. He laughed uncomfortably, rubbing his neck. "Cho must be over the moon." Tasha scorned.

"Is that how he returned to us?" The scientist catechized thoughtfully. He was always curious when it came to science, even if the subject was beyond his field, but this was very very in his field. He enjoyed learning and experimenting with new sciences, and loved studying those newer ones, instead of just sticking with the old forms, like some other ones Tasha had come across would.

"Yes, but he hasn't given me any details." she scoffed. Bruce stopped talking, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. She assumed it was Tony, making some obscene gesture, but she was wrong. A hand clapped her shoulder. A hand clad in a tight blue sleeve.

"Steve, I told you the Maximoff's should be left alo-" she never finished her sentence. Romanoff turned around, watching the hand on her shoulder draw back, and shapeshift back to it's original armored form. The rest of the body, that used to look like Steve melted, his blonde hair growing into a helmet, his clothes into a suit of thick armor. Lastly, his skin began to change to familiar mottled purple and olive green tones, the straight line that looked to be a mouth implied a devious smile.


	24. I swear I don't even remember writing this

The imposing chitauri General stood intimidatingly grinning three feet from Natasha. What used to be Steve inspected her, checking for any obvious weaknesses. Steve. Where could he be? At the military base, had something happened? He had seemed fairly normal, acting protective of the team, scolding Tony, being himself. The General had either done a perfect imitation of Steve, or he was somehow projecting himself through the fake image. Tasha pushed these ideas away, and as if it was a normal foe, the assassin didn’t let any vulnerability show. She kept a straight face, and crossed her arms, staring directly at it’s disgusting face. Letting it know she thought it repulsive would only enhance its knowledge of her, so she didn’t. 

The watching Avengers and Pepper watched silently, as Tasha slowly reached into one of her pockets, where she permanently kept an electronic disk since the attacks had started. Pepper, and Bruce both took steps towards her, holding out their hands in warning, but before anything else could happen, the General let out one of it’s terrible screeches; and without thinking, Natasha took the fifteen seconds she had, to throw the disk into the helmet. The usual blue sparks exploded and popped all over the silver surface, and the skin blackened again under the electricity skating across the metal.

“Everyone, don’t waste time getting anything, take a gun from under the counter, and get outside!” yelled Tasha. Tony and Sam were still hopelessly drunk, and barely able to walk, so they were being ushered to the exit by Pepper. She had grabbed a gun from the kitchen, and was running outside practically lifting them by their shirts like a mother cat. She was screaming in both of their ears, but neither of them seemed to be listening, but protesting lackadaisically in her general direction. The General had leapt characteristically out of the window, as if it planned to meet them on the street, shattering the glass. The shards flew everywhere, into the couch cushions, into Natasha’s hair, and anywhere else that was physically in reach.

Bruce had collapsed, and was pounding the ground with his fists, his back hunched and heaving. He was moaning under his breath, trying not to transform, muttering words of ‘stop’ and more that were probably a mantra. She also caught ‘not again’ and one that stuck out: ‘don’t do it, stay you for her’. She was taken aback, but she kept her focus.

“Bruce, Bruce, don’t turn green.” she repeated what she had said over a year ago into his ear, when Ultron had attacked their goodbye party. It had worked then, but the lullabye that had worked then didn’t now. She had no time to ponder this though, as she heard a sound she hadn’t heard in about four years. Natasha rose from the shaking scientist’s side, and took a small hook and string from a pouch on her waistband. She attached it to a broken piece of the ceiling, and leaned out the window, using her feet to anchor herself to the building. The spy looked up at the sky, now bluer than she had hoped. She saw what she had hoped to never see again. The same portal, the same monsters, they were back. Natasha climbed back over into the living room, which looked like it had been hit by a bomb, and returned to Bruce’s palpitating form. He was seriously muttering now, quickly, and louder, his breaths ragged.

“No, no, don’t transform, do not become him, he is not you, calm down Banner, do it for her, stay you for her.” his eyes were shut, tight, but like they might give in any time. That they might jerk open, turn green, and not see anymore. Not see what he was destroying, not see her. She knew that he would, but Bruce’s alter-ego was not to be assumed to be anything accept violent. Tasha placed one of her small hands on his twitching arm, and ran it down to his wrist in imitation of the old lullabye. He stopped trembling, and lay motionlessly on the floor. The physicist moved to sit up, and Tasha watched him move, his usual attempt at poise, and to look composed.

“You’re not gonna turn green?” she said. He looked up at her, his face partially smiling, but also hurting, remembering the previous time she had said this.

“I’ve got a compelling reason not to lose my cool.” he responded shakily. The assassin smirked, and let him get up on his own.

“We should get down there, I definitely saw.....” she trailed off, not wanting to aggravate him.

“I heard, the Other Guy has pretty ok hearing.” he answered tenderly. Tasha nodded, and moved for the door. “Same strategy as last time?” she stopped, and turned around.

“As the first time?” he nodded back, and started down the stairs to the ground floor. She trailed after him, watching his retreating self nervously clump down the stairs.


	25. If anyone has actually gotten this far, I tip my hat to you

When Natasha and Bruce exited the tower, chaos had already ensued. Tony was flying around in his Iron Man suit, haphazardly from drunkenness, same with Sam, but they managed not to crash into anything (through some dangerously close calls, and screeches from Pepper). They were mainly just spinning around and confusing the General, not shooting him, or even lighting up possible weapons. The long time spy guessed that Pepper had stubbornly insisted upon not to shoot for fear of them hitting people who were not supposed to be targets. 

Wanda flew around the creature’s head with her magic, her boots and fingers glowing red as streams of it surrounded her feet, keeping her airborn. Natasha, of course didn’t have any superpowers, but she had been trying to teach Wanda to focus her mind on her feet so she could fly while still being able to use her hands for combat. Wanda was employing these lessons, firing jets of crimson light at the General’s helmet. They were making small dents, though everyone probably knew she  _ could  _ just crush his bones from the inside. She refrained from doing so probably because it would probably not be very pleasent to watch an alien get crushed from the inside, and they could possibly use the creature for study. The Witch drifted circumferencing the extraterrestrial, as it gazed up at her in the first real sign of astonishment Tasha had seen on it’s face since it landed two months prior.

Vision joined Wanda flying around the General’s general direction, shooting it with his laser forehead while Thor threw his hammer repeatedly at the chestplate, damaging it just a bit more than Wanda’s magic was tarnishing the helm. Larger dents speckled the silver surface from the heavy blows. Rhodey positioned himself near Thor at his perch on a three-story rooftop, and began to open fire on the chestplate, bombarding the sleek armor with bullets from his shoulder. He lifted his arm, and laser beams mingled with the barrage of bullets, speeding them up, and heating them greatly. This was a trick taught to him by Thor, who would drop by from Asgard to see Jane, and to help with the training of the new Avengers; as he sometimes electrified his hammer with a bolt of lightning. The bullets pelted the General, embedding themselves in the metal.

Bruce surveyed Natasha, fiddling with his own fingers, his lab coat, and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Code green?” he grimaced anxiously. She nodded, not looking away from the action, her sharp eyes fixed on Wanda; who the General had chosen to focus on. Vision was hovering right next to her, seemingly protecting her, but not with his body. He was gazing at her, Tasha reading in his facial expression that if the General tried to attack Wanda, Vision definitely  _ would  _ obstruct the blast with his own person. 

Tasha could feel the shift next to her as Bruce transformed into the Hulk, knowing he wouldn’t harm her, she didn’t twitch. Once he fully transformed, Natasha took off running, the green fighter racing beside her, being careful not to surpass her. He charged, his feet pounding into the street with each step, sometimes leaving cracks. Natasha took meticulous concern in not doing anything too risky, as she was positive Hulk would leap in, and stop her midway. She could not keep it up forever though.

Since Wanda, Vision, Tony, Sam, Thor,  _ and  _ Rhodey all had the General distracted, it was the perfect opportunity to sneak up on him. Natasha sped around the debris cast around by ricocheting bullets, and metal shards embedded in the streets like knives through butter. She was careful with her footing, not hitting any wreckage around her. The General still had not noticed her, and had started to turn warily towards the giant sage rage monster roaring at him. Tasha slowed, nearing the General, and creeping up behind him. She silently slipped two electric disks into the gap between the helmet and the chestplate, and backed away, ready for the light show to begin. It did, just as the assassin predicted, azure and sky blue sparks sprung across the armor, the skin beneath burning for a third time. The General’s skin was darker than it had been before, but it blackened again, peels of the tender tissue beginning to flake, and fall off it’s face. The General whipped around to see her, it’s slit-eyes narrowing further to the point where Natasha had no idea how it saw anything. 

It started to walk steadily towards her, ignoring the layers of skin falling off of its face. Natasha backed up, digging in her pockets for more disks. She cursed under her breath, feeling nothing in her small bags. She searched the pockets of her utility belt, coming away only with gunpowder dusting her fingertips. She cursed again, and looked back up at the General, her red hair swinging in her face. Hulk was off distracted by the threatening lights shooting from Rhodey’s hands, not paying attention to her being cornered by the chitauri General. Thor’s hammer flew out of nowhere into the helmet of General, perfectly aimed, and shocked with electricity. It didn’t do very much accept for further blackening the ugly face beneath. The General shook it off, and continued to menacingly stroll towards her, until Natasha was pressed against a wall. She began to sweat bullets matching those shot by Rhodey, brushing her hair out of her way. 

With nothing in her pockets, and almost nothing around her, Natasha sank to the sidewalk, and fingered the ground looking for junk littering it she could use to at least distract her intimidating opponent. Finally, her hand closed around something round and smooth, and heavy. She lifted it, without bothering to check what she was using, and swung it at the General’s face. The General’s face briefly showed a look of shock before it was pounded inward. Natasha smirked, and hefted whatever she was attacking with again, this time aiming to maim even worse. She hit the General, this time in the stomach, casting it into the street. Dashing to where the General lay, to make sure it didn’t rise from the fetal position on the tar, Natasha delivered one more blow that would send the creature straight into orbit. She did it for Clint, avenging him after two months, and she did it for the new Avengers, concluding their first real mission, but most of all, she did it for the original Avengers, who deserved some peace at last. 

The General was now merely a speck in the sky, and only then did she focus on her surroundings. All of her teammates had gathered around her, gawking at her in a circle. Even Tony and Sam landed perfectly, the effects of the alcohol wearing off at last. Wanda and Thor stood open mouthed, and wide eyed. Tony opened his mask, revealing his face matching Wanda and Thor’s, but his eyes the size of dinner plates. Sam’s mouth was opening and closing like a goldfish in a bowl gasping for oxygen. Vision’s expression remained calm and collected, but allowing a small smile to grace it. Pepper ran towards them as fast as her treacherous heels would allow, and stopped mid-sentence to gape at her.

“Natasha, Tony, Sam, Wanda, what’s going-” At last, Natasha looked down. Clenched in her hand, was Mjolnir.


	26. How many elipses are necessary per shocking thing? The world, and certainly 12 year old me, may never know

“Nat.......” Pepper gaped. She stood, her jaw hanging, her eyes glazed over with the multitude of the events of the last few days.

“Ms. Romanoff, you are worthy.” Vision announced unceremoniously. Bruce, who had shrunk back to himself, waddled over to her, wrapped in a blanket Natasha hadn’t noticed had been draped over Pepper’s arm. He freed one of his hands, and haphazardly placed it on her shoulder, as if afraid the Other Guy was still out, and still easily able to crush things. Once he realized this was no longer a possibility, he looked down at her, smiling gently.

“You always were.” he whispered, his smile widening into a grin. Natasha forced back the blush creeping into her pale cheeks, and kept her face straight. “And that’s the end of the chitauri  _ General _ , at least” his expression reverted to a focus, the scientist’s look of intense concentration settling naturally over his features. “The rest of them are still out there, and so is Steve.” Tony, Sam, Wanda, Vision, Pepper, Thor, Rhodey, and Pietro’s (who had joined them after failing to restrain Pepper) faces fell. They all furrowed their brows, and stared fixedly at Bruce. He didn’t shrink under their gaze, as he usually did, and continued to explain his ideas. Natasha wondered if his prior boldness with her had anything to do with his newfound strength under much attention. Once he had finished, everyone was nodding along, they all seemed to agree with his plan. Pepper was the only one who had something else to say on the matter.

“Even you do execute this plan, who’s to say the aliens didn’t do something drastic to Steve?” she rubbed her pale fingers over the skin on her arms, and looked gingerly at Tony. He didn’t notice.

“Tony!”

“What?” Pepper rolled her eyes.

“You can’t tell me you  _ agree  _ with this plan?” Tony shrugged in his armor, flipping the helmet back over his eyes.

“Kinda do.” and with that, he started up his suit, and rocketed onto the platform at the top of the Avengers Tower. Pepper watched his progress, while muttering under her breath countless suggestions of how she could dismantle the suit for him.

“Though I agree with your giving Stark a stern talk, we have other matters to discuss.” Thor spoke up from in between Wanda and Rhodey, who both jumped. Natasha sighed, and switched around Mjolnir so she held the handle out to Thor. Here it came. She’d lifted the hammer, and that was that. Yay, she was part of the “worthy” club including a synthetic drone with JARVIS-for-brains, and a rambling norse god. More attention she didn’t want, lovely.

“He’s right.” said Sam.

“I lifted the hammer of ages, lovely, can we deal with the fact that our most solid piece of study material of the chitauri,  _ and  _ Loki’s plans were just hit right into space?” asked Tasha. “And that Steve just melted into what I just blasted off planet? We should focus on finding him before much else, even study of the chitauri. He’s an important part of the team” she added, noticing a few looks.

“Why do you wish not to speak of your triumph, Ms. Romanoff?” Thor frowned. Natasha didn’t particularly want to have any more unwanted attention, knowing how it felt since she released all of S.H.I.E.L.D’s files to the public. Even though these were completely different situations, the public and the media being the public and the media would automatically assume something ‘threatening national security’ was happening. If it had been, say Steve, the news would greet it with, to use Thor’s word ‘revels’. Since she was Russian, and her past was one internet browser away, news would explode in a worse way if she lifted the hammer of Thor.

“We have other things to think about.” She answered simply.

“She’s right.” Bruce replied. Tasha was grateful he had spoken up, but she could stand on her own.

“Thank you,  _ Bruce _ .” at the look on her face, everyone decided to change the subject. It wasn’t a particularly scary one, just one that implied heavily her uncomfortable demeanor.

“So, we all agree to go with Dr. Banner’s plan.” Sam reiterated, breaking the difficult silence that settled over the Avengers and Pepper. Pepper opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish before deciding to keep quiet. The nine heroes (Pepper deserved some hero status for dealing with Tony nearly every day) stood in a circle in the wrecked street of ManHattan, flooding an overwhelmed Pepper with reasons why Bruce’s plan would work; while the nervous Bruce stood half behind Tasha, still wrapped in his blanket.

Back in the tower, Pepper had gone to ‘harang’ Tony in her words, and everyone else had gone back to their bedrooms. All except for Natasha, who had stayed in the kitchen. She had not eaten since lunch the day before, since she and Bruce had left their dinner early, and hadn’t had time for breakfast before the madness with road-runner being back, and knocking the General into space. It was hard to believe that the failed makeup date had been yesterday. She and Bruce had been interrupted by Tony and Pepper yesterday, they had been dealing with the old couple in the elevator yesterday, she had snapped Tony’s wrist yesterday. So much had gone on. Pietro was back from the dead, the General was in space, and they had a plan to rescue Steve from the clutches of evil. So much had happened, so much to still go one, and Natasha’s standings with a certain Dr. Banner had changed very much, or not at all. The last item on her list that needed to be crossed off was something that needed to be taken care of, and should have been for months. Avenging her best friend.


	27. Why is this chapter so LONG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone actually makes it here, I am virtually handing you a lollipop. I hope it was worth it. Twelve year old me thanks you.

Rescue missions seemed to be a growing necessity among the Avengers recently. First it was Tony when the General burst into the lab, then Steve who apparently hadn’t come back from that one. At least, that was the Avengers’ most supported theory. Steve was the main force pulling them all together, and with him gone, chaos would probably ensue. He was the star spangled glue that held the bond of the new and old Avengers. With that thought motivating them, it took not three days to piece together a plan. Same as last time: find the target, calm the Hulk (if needed) and leave.

Natasha pulled on her jumpsuit, strapped on her gear again, and prepped all her weapons as usual. Just as she was slipping the guns into holsters, there was a knock on her door.

“Agent Romanoff?” The voice was unfamiliar, at least to show up at her room. The assassin stood, zipping the last holder tight around her thigh, and opened the door. The polite face of Vision stood there looking down at her. He towered over her by eight inches exactly, but she wasn’t intimidated. Despite his powers, red skin, and piercing green eyes, he didn’t scare Natasha. He was about as hostile towards the Avengers as the laser gun sitting in her closet, docile and not even charged. She never used it, but it was dangerous. It had the capability to seriously injure, or kill someone, but since it was never used, it didn’t do any of the above. The same thing was associated with Vision. He could probably easily kill any of them except for maybe Thor or Bruce, but naturally, he didn’t. Natasha looked down from his face, and noticed that dangling from his hand was Mjolnir. Lovely.

“Yes?” she sighed. She had hoped at least Vision would leave her alone.

“I know that you are desperate to have little to no attention paid to you, and I have tried to steer clear of your files in my database.” Vision took everything very well, and read people very well, even if he didn’t technically (emotionally)  _ feel _ anything himself. She used to think she was the same, in control of her own emotions and power, but since the Avengers were first assembled she hadn’t been sure. The Ultron crisis only pushed that boundary farther. Sometimes Natasha wished she could be like Vision, an animatronic who couldn’t really feel or be offended, which was a good thing too since Natasha was making no attempt to be polite. 

She was surprised that it was even possible for Vision to steer clear of any information on the internet, much less to notice her lack of wanting him to find her information. Enough to understand she didn’t appreciate anyone reading her files. 

“But, I came to offer training with Mjolnir if you were ever in a situation where you were forced to use it again.” Putting Black Widow first, and Natasha second, the assassin decided it would be best to master use of all weapons available to her.

“Much obliged, I’ll take you up on that.” She tried a genuine smile, and it looked like it worked. “But now we have a rescue mission to jet off to.” Vision nodded, and walked in his contained way, his cape billowing with each step. He kept the hammer clenched tightly in his hand, as if he still didn’t trust her. That was fair, but Natasha couldn’t pretend she wasn’t  _ slightly _ surprised. Was it possible for an animatronic to lie? Had he read (scanned was a better word for it) her files after she expressed discomfort at the thought that he had? This was why she never showed her emotions on her sleeves. Natasha crossed her heavily armed sleeves, settled her face, and followed. 

She found everyone waiting on the jet for her, again. She needed to stop being late. First Bruce during the first battle with the General, then Sam having to get her for Tony’s mission, now Vision coming to get her with a Mjolnir training session proposal. With all the Avengers except for Cap and Clint, of course crammed in the jet, it was pretty crowded. The Avengers quinjet was now packed with Tony, Thor, Bruce, Sam, Wanda, Rhodey, Vision, Pietro (in a new friction absorbing outfit), and herself finding spots to sit and stand, there was more talking; and more things to talk about. The main topic was Pietro’s return, but a close second was the new third wielder of Mjolnir. Tony was going on again about how he always thought it would be himself, or  _ at least Cap, come on guys, who else thought it would be Romanoff?! _ For once she agreed with the egotistical idiot.

Touching down at the same base as before, Tony and Rhodey flipped their masks, and everyone turned on their earcomms.

“Same groups as last time?” Rhodey asked. Natasha nodded once.

“That’s Sam and Tony, since Steve was here last time with Sam, Vision, Rhodey, and Bruce, Thor and Pietro, you’re together this time.” Natasha thought she saw Pietro glance up at Thor nervously, who towered over him just as Vision did over her. “Wanda, you’re with me again.” Wanda looked at her, and smiled for the first time in a while. Natasha noticed Wanda had been much happier in the past few days since Pietro had been back, not that that was a surprise. The Avengers climbed out of the jet, and ignored the dust sent up from their feet in the sand. The pairings and trio ran off to the doors, taking their various entrances, some through roofs and some through doors while Natasha looked at Wanda.

“Where did we see Steve last time we were here?” she asked. Testing for the new Avengers was more than over, but there could never be too much preparation with the star-spangled glue of the Avengers kidnapped. Natasha was still testing people whenever she got an opportunity, which given the recent circumstances was often. 

“When we saw him enter with Sam rescuing Stark.” Wanda supplied. Natasha nodded, and looked back at her trainee.

“So where do we go?”

“To the back entrance.”

“Mhm.” So they went, running quietly through hallways checking each room just in case for a most likely unconscious Steve Rogers. They found nothing up until the last room before the door they’d entered to calm down Bruce. The large iron doors were open as the Avengers had apparently taken no careful care to close them when they’d left only a few days ago (was it that little time?).

All the heavy metal doors with the little window in each looked the same, but how Wanda and Natasha had missed Captain America lying unconscious on a table in this room she didn’t know. She’d been rushing to calm a vicious green-bean at the time and might have forgotten to check it? Whatever the reason, which she would mull over later, the Black Widow was currently on a mission. With a trainee who was looking at her for guidance.

“So what do we do now?” she aimed the question at Wanda rather than conducting it herself as she had with the last few steps. So far the Scarlet Witch had been overall correct with her answers, but as a first real mission where she was asked to provide a solution to everything, she was naturally nervous.

“Tell the others, correct?” Wanda tapped her earpiece. Natasha nodded again, and Wanda pressed the tiny button that would connect her to the team. “We have eyes on him, unguarded so we can see from here-” she looked at Romanoff. She gestured for her nervous trainee to continue. “we will engage-” Natasha shook her head, typing onto her phone.

_ Engage means to begin a fight, no matter how annoyingly noble he gets sometimes, we aren’t fighting him right now.  _ Wanda laughed a little, and amended her previous statement.

“We’re going to enter, and attempt to free him without notifying anyone.” Wanda let go of the button for the Avengers to respond.

“That was good, but next time short and simple, no need to explain your entire plan. Just let them know what you’re doing in as little words as possible.” Natasha admonished.

“Ok.”

“So we...?” She really didn’t need to be doing this, but given the past month or so, as much of a refresher as possible would encourage the success of missions.

“Test the door, if it’s locked, I use my power to fiddle with the lock.” Natasha deemed this answer satisfactory, and tilted her head to the lock.

“Go ahead then, Maximoff.” she provided a gentle smirk to lighten things a little, and knelt next to the door handle. Wanda reached out a hand to the knob, and jiggled it a bit. Locked. Wanda didn’t flinch, moving her fingers instead to send a tiny jet of red magic into the keyhole. The lock clicked, and Wanda cautiously opened the door. Inside lay Steve, however slightly bloody, in all his glory. 

“Steve!” Murmured Natasha, speed-walking towards him. He was still dressed in his cap suit, laid on a table his arms folded over his chest. His face and uniform both had patches of dried blood on them in non-lethal areas, but from the looks of it it wasn’t fresh. The room was empty, no guard for Captain America. Or maybe when Natasha hit the General into space something happened, like with the Chitauri. Nonetheless, the room seemed a little bit too clear of threats. The only precaution set up so far was the locked door, no cameras, no hidden guns or anything else, so Natasha approached, gesturing to Wanda that it was safe.

_ Just to be safe, we should probably still communicate like this. We don’t know what could be hiding in here.  _ Natasha tapped into her phone. Wanda took hers out, and tapped her own message.

_ Ok, are we sure though that there is nothing coming, or no one was alerted by our presence?  _ Natasha thought for a moment, and popped open one of the tiny compartments in her utility belt, pulling out a small orb that resembled Tony’s eavesdropping doodad. This machine, however did something very different. Tasha pressed a tiny button with her fingernail, and rolled the orb to the middle of the room. The orb opened so it was a flat panel on the floor about three by three inches, and thin lasers of holographic red light started beaming up one by one from the device’s center. After the first few were up, the red light engulfed the whole room bathing everything in it. The function of this machine was to uncover lasers, like spies in older movies would use flour to do. The room was clear of lasers except for a tightly knit grid of squares encircling Steve. Wanda gasped, and quickly covered her mouth.

_ How do we disable it?  _ She typed.

_ How  _ do  _ we disable it?  _ Natasha typed back. Wanda stood there thinking for a few seconds, and then began to move towards Steve until she stood not a foot from the grid. Analysing Wanda’s movements without making a noise, the Widow watched as her partner crouched, scanning the bottom of the table for humbly sized buttons. She circled the table, still in a crouch, and frowned. Natasha continued to stand and let her do her thing, her arms folded. Wanda started twirling one hand in the air until magic swirled around her fingers, and she sent the spurt of magic at the table so it was covered from the floor to every inch that was not touching Steve. The Witch closed her eyes, and tried to feel her magic, a tactic Natasha had taught her to help with spacial relations while still incorporating her powers. Wanda’s permanently shadowed lids jerked open, and she unbent her knees a little bit so her nose was level with the rim of the table. Her eyes narrowed, searching the surface for whatever she’d felt with her powers that was invisible to Natasha. 

These were the downsides of not having powers, but Natasha dismissed the thought as soon as it appeared. The topic, Natasha could not deny had entered her mind sometimes. She’d sometimes wished she’d had powers that would make her job easier, but she’d always swayed her thoughts from that image of her with some healing factor or strength as instantaneously as she could.

Wanda seemed to have found whatever she was looking for as she closed her eyes again, summoning another wisp of magic on only her index finger like a little flame, sending it to a tiny space in the area underneath Steve’s neck between the table and him. It was a clever position, but any material they’d come across (including Ultron’s form) could be penetrated by Wanda’s magic. The button was pushed down slowly by the magic, and the grid flickered slowly out. Natasha gave Wanda a quiet high five in silent victory, and proceeded to remove a gun from her left holster, and stick the handle inside of where the lasers used to be, checking it was devoid of the deadly beams. It was. The duo stood on either side of the table where their unconscious teammate and friend lay, and Wanda watched as Natasha placed a hand on Steve’s forehead. It was numbingly cold, and she withdrew her hand as if she had been burned.

_ What is it?  _ Wanda asked via phone screen.

_ Feel his forehead.  _ Natasha answered. Wanda did so, and elicited the same response.

_ What do we do?  _ Wanda typed again.

_ What  _ do  _ we do?  _ Natasha raised an eyebrow, and Wanda stifled a laugh, remembering it was her job to call the shots.

_ First, shouldn’t we call the team?  _ she inquired.

“Mhm.” Natasha said quietly. Pressing a finger to her earpiece, Wanda began to talk in short bits.

“Found Rogers......yes.......Yeah.......Natasha?” Natasha looked up. “Put your finger on your earpiece.” She did.

“Code green.” Came Rhodey’s voice. Natasha sighed.

“Where are you?” the assassin whispered.

“Same place as last time.” Then he blinked out.

“Someone wanna come and remove Rogers while I take care of the big guy?” She spoke barely over a whisper now, but somehow still audible enough to be understood.

“I got it.” Sam’s voice piped through the system. “On my way, which room are you in?” Wanda exited the room, leaving Natasha with Steve’s unconscious body, and she whispered from the doorway.

“Twelve twenty eight.”

“Ok, just stay out there for now.” Natasha told her. Putting her finger back on her communicator, she informed Sam.

“Twelve twenty eight.”

“Hm. We’re not far from there, just stay there for the next minute.” So they did, Natasha checking Steve’s pulse every few seconds. It was slowed, but only as if he was sleeping. She could only check for a few milliseconds each time because his skin was so cold.

“One more thing, Wilson.” it would be considerate to tell him before Sam tried to lift Steve, or drag him or whatever he was planning to do. Maybe Natasha would leave Wanda with him.

“Hm?” crackled his voice.

“His skin is colder than the ice that froze him for sixty nine years, so careful touching him.”

“Ok.” he asserted. His voice didn’t come from her earpiece this time, but from the doorway. Falcon walked in, folding his wings to fit in the doorway.

“Wilson.”

“Romanoff. Any traps triggered?”

“None to trigger accept for a laser grid Witch and I already took care of. It would probably be best to test if it’s reappeared though.” This time Natasha didn’t bother with the tiny device, but merely used the back end of her gun again. The laser grid was still down. “Ok, go ahead.” she turned to the doorway, pausing with a hand on the doorway. She tilted her head towards the room to Wanda, who gave a small smile and walked in. “Also, I’m leaving Maximoff with you to lift Capsicle.”

“So why’d you ask me here, Romanoff?”

“We travel in pairs now, bird brain.” Natasha smirked, leaving them to take care of their comatose Captain. 

This time the Hulk’s roars were easily heard from where she was, since room 1228 was right up against the metal doors where the glass clearly showed the big guy throwing Vision and Rhodey around, slamming them against walls while they tried desperately to hold their ground. The Widow pushed open the doors, and ran into the large open room, where she stopped in the middle.

“Rhodey, are you alright?” He was knelt in his armor on one knee against a wall catching his breath.

“Fine, go help Mr. Animatronic out.” His breathing was heavy, he opened his mask, looking at her without the visor of metal. Natasha nodded, turning her head to Vision, who was, again trying and failing to pin down the raging green beast.

“Vision.” she called.

“Hello Ms. Romanoff.” he grunted, using his laser to push the Hulk against a wall. “Another lullabye is in order?” Tasha nodded. Vision carefully moved out of the way, his laser still pinning down the Hulk.

“You can stop it with the laser now.” She muttered. He obliged, gratefully drifting out of the way. 

Natasha blocked everything else out, everyone else, the mission, everything, her only focus on returning the Hulk to Bruce. They were both the Hulk, and they were both Bruce, and she cared for them (almost) equally, but Bruce was easier to come within fifteen feet of.

“Hey Big Guy,” she knew it wouldn’t work, but it was worth a shot. He turned around to her with a muted roar, but his eyes showed more compassion, recognition. She guessed they saw a frizz of red hair and a black female form, maybe the shape of her face, and he could register that that combination was friendly. Those eyes were Bruce’s eyes, scrutinizing, studious, and caring. They were green, but their emotion was all Bruce’s. She let her own eyes linger on them, testing his reaction. “The sun’s getting real low.” The sun, in fact, was not getting low, as it was only noon-ish, and they were inside, but these conditions never mattered in the past, and these words were what brought back the mental connection. As she thought though, this lullabye was not as effective as it had been over a year before. Now instead of just  _ letting _ her green eyes linger on his green eyes, she focused on them, trying to forget the rest of him, only his eyes were what mattered right now. They anchored her to reality, and she guessed they also anchored Bruce. It was a part of him that stayed despite his transformations other than personal relationships and a slight facial similarity. The spy didn’t close her eyes, like she did with the other lullabies including song, but she still began to sing nonetheless. It was a different lullabye than before, but still in Russian, and still haunting, as all of them were. The rough English translation was something like:

“ _ Why do you stand, swaying, _

_ Oh slender birch tree _

_ With your head bent _

_ To your very stem? _

_ But across the road _

_ Across a wide river _

_ Similarly lonely _

_ Stands a tall oak tree _ .” 

She finished the verse, and tried not to think about how his story and her story mirrored the lyrics so precisely. The Widow unfocused her eyes from his as they began to change back to Bruce’s familiar shade of brown, the muscular form shrinking back to the scientist she had grown attached to over the months. She rushed over to him, calling over Vision to help, who seemed to have gotten used to her voice by now. That was one person down, Rhodey was still slightly mesmerized, but he pried himself free from the fascination faster than the last time. To be honest, Natasha was just grateful Pepper wasn’t there again, so instead of dwelling on that, she squeezed Bruce’s forearm, and moved down to his wrist, checking his pulse speed. It was rapidly slowing, to her relief. He groaned.

“Is Steve ok?” he coughed immediately.

“Yes, why did you hulk out?” Natasha replied with another question.

“No reason.” He said mysteriously. She raised an eyebrow. “I, uh...” He raised a tentative hand to the back of his neck as he sat up. She sat back on her heels to give him some space, and Vision stood up, hovering in the air a little. Bruce glanced at the red assailant as if asking a silent question. Vision tilted his chin down as if to say ‘yes’, and looked down at her.

“He received the heavy end of Mjolnir, it was my fault.” Natasha didn’t realized he clenched said hammer in his left fist.

“How did this happen?” She asked abrasively.

“I summoned the hammer from Thor when Dr. Banner was not aware, and had no time to move out of the way.” Vision confined solemnly.

“So Dr. Banner got Mjolnir to the head at an incredibly high velocity, and he’s fine.” She confirmed.

“Define ‘fine’.” Bruce lamented, moving his hand up to the back of his head rather than his neck.

“How are you feeling?” Getting a godly hammer to the head must have hurt, even for a gamma-intensified healing system.

“Other than one killer headache, fine-” he stopped, looking past her to the doorway. Natasha turned around to see Sam, Thor, Wanda, Tony, and Pietro, staring, Cap’s unconscious body floated behind them enveloped in crimson light.

“Vision, they saw the whole thing didn’t they?” Natasha asked him.

“If by ‘the whole thing’ you mean the lullabye, not all of them, Mr. Wilson and Ms. Maximoff walked in just as Dr. Banner finished his transformation.” Vision answered.  _ Lovely, Road Runner and Shellhead heard too. _ Luckily, Pietro recovered faster than the rest of the victims of hearing the lullaby, and was frowning his usual frown at nothing in particular. He probably understood the lyrics, being Sokovian as well as his sister. Tony was pretty much the same, except he was smirking in their general direction. Bruce, trying to stand up accidentally grabbed the closest thing to keep himself from falling down again, which happened to be Vision’s fluttering cape. It was only Vision’s lightly reflexes that caught himself and the clumsy doctor before they both toppled to the ground. Murmured thanks were exchanged, and Natasha, Rhodey, and Vision supporting Bruce joined the others in the doorway.

“Let’s blow this popstand.” Tony suggested, much louder than Natasha or Bruce (and probably Sam and Wanda too, who had the misfortune of being directly next to him) were hoping. Bruce flinched.

“Of course, Stark, but since upon arrival here we have no information on whether Captain is alright, we should probably be heading back.” Thor declared.

“True.” agreed Sam.

Trudging back to the quinjet with an unconscious Captain America, and the rest of the Avengers (all of them, including former deceased) was hardly inconspicuous, but the middle of a plain in Mexico was hardly going to be a hot tourist spot. Boarding the jet, everyone sat down, still not quite used to the fact that Clint was not piloting it.


End file.
